


She Makes Me

by bobbysghost



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Frank Iero, Bands, Brian is a cute bean, Cocaine, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Maybe - Freeform, My first Brian fic, Please excuse the writing, Queen (Band) - Freeform, Queen - Freeform, Smoking, Touring, Weed, drug usage, relationship, so be kind, theyre rock stars, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbysghost/pseuds/bobbysghost
Summary: When Rosalind Grant happened upon a chance meeting with Brian May in the Imperial College library, she couldn't predict what would happen when both their lives took off. The 70's were a whirlwind of romance, thrill and adventure for Rose and the band Queen.





	1. Teo Torriatte

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters in this fic belong to me except for Rose and her family! All rights go to the original creators (Queen).

_1973_    

London was dark, grey and grizzly, as usual. The rain splashed down onto the window of the bus and Rose sighed. It was _not_ her favourite weather, despite the rain rarely changing. She pressed her chin into her scarf, silently begging for the bus to be quicker so she could get into the warmth of the Imperial College’s library.

Finally, the bus pulled up alongside the University, and Rose thanked the driver before hopped out. She groaned, sheltering her head from the storm with her textbook, and all but ran towards the doors. As she slipped into the building, she let out a breath and relaxed in the familiar surroundings. Rose had been studying there for two years already, and was in her third year of her Bachelor of Arts degree in history. Unlike many of the students, she actually enjoyed studying.

Rose slowly walked up the stairs towards the library, trailing her fingers over the railings as she hummed quietly, an old David Bowie song on her lips. The library was empty when she entered, and she waved at old Mrs Masters, the librarian. Rose headed to the tables, placing her textbooks and bag down.

“Horrible weather, isn’t it, Rosalind?” Mrs Masters said, and Rose smiled. They had the same conversation every time they saw each other.

“Terrible. I can’t wait for summer.”

The older woman pursed her lips. “By then we’ll all be complaining about the sun.” She shook her head and ambled off. Rose watched her go fondly, before looking down at her notes. After a second, she got up and started wandering up and down the book cases; she quietly collected research papers, not really paying attention to where she was going. The library was empty as far as she could see.

Unfortunately, today Rose was wrong, and her nose was too deep in her papers to notice she was heading straight into somebody.

“Oh-!”

Rose yelped as she smacked straight into the strangers chest and flung the research in her arms onto the floor. The papers flew everywhere, her specifically alphabetised pile ruined.

“Shit!” the brick wall she hit cursed, before bending down to desperately accumulate the papers. Rose did the same, quickly trying to grab as much as she could without making an even bigger fool of herself – her face was already bright red and her hands were clamming up.

As she looked up to tell the stranger not to worry, Rose felt her words catch in her throat. Her eyes latched onto deep brown, which flashed gold when the sun hit through the shelves. A mop of messy dark curls fell down his cheeks, which were also flushed in embarrassment. He grinned uncertainly. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” his voice was soft, and Rose could only describe it as harmonious. He gathered the rest of the papers and stood up, as Rose did the same. She took in his body for the first time – he was tall and skinny, like a bean. As she took the papers from him, she noticed his fingertips were calloused, and a few were wrapped in plasters. He cleared his throat. “Quite a lot of work you have there.”

Rose let out a weak chuckle – his beauty had caused her brain to momentarily melt – and nodded. “Dissertation life, I guess.”

“Yeah, I get that,” the stranger nodded with a grin. After a second of awkward silence, he stuck out his hand. “I’m Brian, by the way.”

In an effort to accept the handshake without making a further fool of herself, Rose’s fingers fumbled and the papers scattered everywhere once again.

“Oh, damn,” she cursed, flicking her hair out of her face and kneeling to pick them up again. Brian laughed, and crouched to help her.

After they finally got the papers in an orderly pile safely stored under Brian’s arm, Rose took his hand with a chuckle. “I’m Rosalind- Rose. Thank you for helping me, I’m sorry I’m so clumsy.” She rolled her eyes, a blush hot on her cheeks. She fought to keep a laid back exterior as her insides had turned to jelly.

Brian laughed again. “Don’t worry, so I am I. My mates sometimes call me ‘Bad-Luck-Brian’,” he paused as his face flushed in embarrassment, “I don’t know why I said that.”

The two smiled, before falling into a soft silence. Rose tucked her hair behind her ear, and shrugged. “Well, I’m just going to...” she bobbed her head in the direction of the table her bag was on.

“Oh, of course!” Brian said hastily, his expression slightly crestfallen as he handed her back her papers. “I’ll go and stop being a distraction.”

“You’re welcome to come and sit with me.” Rose offered, her heart skipping a beat as she asked. She was never this forward with guys before, but for some reason her tongue was moving farther than her thoughts. She watched Brian nervously, biting her lip, and breathed out when he grinned and nodded.

“I’ll take you up on that offer. Let me just go get my things.”

He wandered off to the back of the library, and Rose sat down at her table. She emptied her bag of her notebook, pen and textbook; _Power and Conflict in Elizabethan England._ Flipping open her notebook, Rose grabbed the pen and the research papers. Brian soon appeared next to her, a heavy looking satchel on one shoulder and a guitar case on the other. Rose raised an eyebrow at it.

“Do you play?”

Brian nodded, tapping his case affectionately as he sat down. “Yeah, I play in a band. I actually made this one with my dad a couple of years ago – I call it my Red Special...”

Rose’s stomach fluttered as she watched him talk about his guitar and music. His face was cracked with a smile, and his melodic voice was explaining everything about his guitar with passion. She hadn’t realised she had stopped listening to what he was saying until he looked across at her with an amused expression.

“Hm?” Rose fidgeted slightly, before shaking herself out of her trance. “What did you say?”

With a chuckle Brian repeated the question he asked her. “Can you play?”

“Oh no. I would like to, but I’m musically inept. I can’t carry a tune to save my life.” Rose squirmed slightly - it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Rubbish, I don’t believe that.” Brian shook his head, taking one of Rose’s pens and twiddling it in his long fingers. His numerous plasters now made sense.

Rose giggled slightly, and shrugged. “Well, it’s the truth.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

After the conversation trailed off, the silence that enveloped them was comforting. Rose had her head down, scribbling with reckless abandon in her notebook. Brian had a book opened on the table; his head resting on his hand. He occasionally let his eyes leave the page and wander over to the girl across from him. In all honesty, Brian had never seen anyone so beautiful - not even Roger.

She had a soft blush that seemed to be constantly on her cheeks, and her sparkling hazel eyes were focused as she wrote her notes. Her lip was delicately caught between her teeth, and it made Brian’s lip quirk up in a fond expression. A lock of golden hair kept falling over her eyes, and his fingers itched to tuck it behind her ear just as they itched to play his guitar. When she spoke, Brian swore he heard a slight twang, but he couldn't pinpoint it.

After a while, Rose stretched and let out a quiet groan. The sun was low in the sky and the rain had eased off, but a drizzle still fell from the dark clouds. She looked out at the weather and made an unimpressed face, which Brian laughed at. Rose looked down at her watch and sighed.

“I should get home, my cat’s probably hungry.”

Brian felt insides clench at the thought of Rose leaving, and wracked his brain for opportunities to see her again.

“Wait,” Brian placed a hand on her wrist to pause her from getting up, “listen, the band are doing a show tomorrow at the Velvet Apple, at eight. I was just wondering if you’d like to come.”

Before Rose had a chance to reply, Brian continued nervously. “I mean you don’t have to. I’m sure you’re busy with your dissertation, but I’d love for you to meet the rest of the band. And... I’d like to see you again.” He scratched the back of his head, waiting for Rose’s answer with baited breath.

She brushed her hair back from her face, and shyly smiled before she nodded. “I’d like that as well.”

His replying grin could break hearts, before grabbing a pen to jot down his number on Rose’s hand. His fingers lingered on hers for a few seconds.

“I’ll see you then?” he asked hopefully.

Rose nodded, and before she could think clearly, she bent over to kiss his cheek. “You’ll see me then.”


	2. Good Company

“ _You know you twist, little girl, you know you twist so fine...”_

Rose sang quietly along to the Beatles as she swiped mascara over her eyelashes. She glanced at herself in the mirror, finally feeling confident with how she was looking. Her eyeliner was perfect, and her eyebrows defined. Her cheeks were brushed with a dab of blush and she finished the look with a swipe of nude lipstick. Rose smacked her lips once, her stomach full of butterflies.

As she went to search for her heels, Rose thought over her outfit once more. The dress she wore reached mid-thigh, and had long, flowing sleeves. The pale pink colour complimented her blush perfectly. When she found her heels, Rose grinned and thought, “ _at least Brian won’t tower over me tonight_ ’.

The idea of seeing him again sent her into goose-bumps, and she slipped on one of her more expensive faux fur jackets. Rose glanced over at the clock on her wall – she had half an hour until the show- enough time to get there and order a drink... and maybe find Brian.

Rose bent down to scratch her cat, Lily, behind the ear. She checked she had food, before heading outside and locking her door behind her.

It was still cold, but Rose was too nervous to notice it as she walked towards the Velvet Apple. She tried to calm the swirling in her guts by humming, but it didn’t work.

A catcall sounded from across the street, followed by a “looking good, Beautiful!” Rose rolled her eyes, ignoring whoever yelled at her. It was common enough.

The pub was hot and full of people. Men and women were eagerly stood in front of the stage, excitement rippling through the room. Rose hung up her coat, before she headed into the crowd and leant onto the bar. She looked eagerly around the room, but couldn’t spot the familiar head of curls.

“What can I get you, love?”

Rose turned to the bartender, and flashed him a nervous smile. “Just a pint, please.”

He turned to grab a glass, “seen these guys before - the band?”

“No, first time.” Rose smiled slightly and took the drink, sliding a couple of coins across the counter. “Why, are they any good?”

“They’re alright. Bit out-there, you know?” He grinned, “Not like anything I’ve seen before.” The barman passed the money back to Rose with a wink. “It’s on the house.”

She blushed deeply, before giving the bartender a nod and a small “thank you.”

The lights suddenly went down, and a loud cheer erupted from the crowd. Rose perked up, her heart suddenly racing with excitement. The low riff of a guitar wavered through the pub, and the lights slowly rose. Roses’ breath caught in her throat.

Four men stood on the stage, almost ethereal in how the stage lights lit them up from behind. The lead singer - a slim, angelic figure in a gold patterned suit - wielded a broken microphone stand in his bedazzled hands. His hair was long and wild, and his exotic look was enhanced by his deep cheekbones and crooked smile. The bassist was cloaked in a velvet jacket and flares, his chest bare except for a long necklace. His hair almost reached his bass as he strummed perfectly. Rose’s eyes slipped towards the drummer, a blonde boy with feminine, but gorgeous eyes and lips to die for. His vest glittered glamorously in the lights.

Rose finally looked at the final member of the band. He was easily the tallest - the clogs he wore only added to his height - and his long body was covered by a draping, black fabric. Brian’s face was relaxed, a wash of happiness evident over his features. His lips were curved up into an easy smile as he played. Rose mouth was open as he picked at his guitar with his nails – his plasters had fallen off by now and his fingers worked magic. Brilliant sounds came from his guitar as the singer opened his mouth.

“ _I was told a million times of all the troubles in my way, mind you grow a little wiser, little better every day...”_

The singer’s voice was unlike anything Rose had heard before, and she soon found herself bopping along to the upbeat song. She continued to watch in awe as the music flowed around her. The crowd were all dancing, or screaming. A few of the girls wolf whistled at the drummer, who smirked and flipped a drumstick in the air. The bassist was grooving along, and the singer was flounced around confidently on stage, more flexible than Rose could hope to be.

As she looked back at the guitarist, she saw Brian looking around the audience as if he was searching for something (whilst still performing perfectly). When his eyes landed on her, his face broke out into a large smile and he nodded at her appreciatively. Rose waved back, a smile on her own face. From that moment, Brian kept glancing at her to make sure she stayed.

The band played a few more songs (notably one called “ _My Fairy King_ ”, which sent shivers down Rose’s spine) before Brian walked up to the microphone, clearing his throat slightly. He peered over at Rose, before speaking.

“Hi, everyone,” a loud cheer came from the crowd, “thank you for coming to see us tonight. We’re going to play one more song, just a little something Freddie has been writing. It’s not finished, but we just want to know what you think.”

Rosa let out a supportive whoop as the band began to play their final song, and she swore she saw Brian blush. The song was a mix of the lead singer playing piano and the rest on their respective instruments, and was pure, heavy, rock and roll, unlike anything Rose had ever been exposed to before. The song was over too soon, and the band said their thank you’s and left the stage. The crowd was cheering loudly, the sound of the clapping and whistling almost deafening.

Rose clapped alongside them, before turning back to the bar to set her drink down. The bartender smiled. “So, did you enjoy them?”

“They were...” Rose wracked her brain for the right word. “Incredible. I don’t know how else to describe them.”

He laughed slightly, and then smirked. “I noticed that guitarist was staring at you all night. If you want to go and talk to him, they’re probably in the room in the back.”

Rose felt her face flush with heat, and she drank the rest of her drink for a bit of liquid courage. She tucked her hair behind her ears, before heading out towards the back rooms.

The air was thick with smoke and the smell of alcohol was intoxicating. Rose pushed her way through the throng of people to one of the doors, knocking on it hard.

The drummer from the band opened the door, his hair falling wetly down his sweaty face and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He raised his eyebrows at Rose, taking the fag out of his lips and blowing the smoke out, before smirking. “Alright, darling? I don’t remember ordering you.”

Rose blinked in surprise, taken aback by his bold words. “Sorry, I was just wondering if Brian was here-“

“Rose! Piss off Roger.”

Brian appeared behind the blonde boy, unceremoniously pushing him out of the way. He was still sweaty and in his concert clothes – his hair stuck to his curls as he smiled widely.

“You made it!” “You were amazing!”

The two laughed at themselves before Brian gestured for Rose to continue. "You all were... _insanely_ good! You said you could play, but you didn’t say you could play like that!”

His already flushed cheeks turned an impossible shade of red, and he looked down shyly. “I’m glad you could come – that was one of our better gigs. Sometimes the crowd doesn’t even clap.”

“I find that hard to believe, you have flocks of groupies out here.”

 _“Brian, aren’t you going to introduce us?”_ an indignant voice called from inside the dressing room.

Brian glanced behind him, before grinning nervously. “Would you like to come in?”

Rose felt butterflies erupt in her stomach, and she nodded hesitantly. Brian guided her into the dressing room, shutting the door firmly behind her. The three other members of the band lounged around on the seats, beer bottles in hand. They all waved happily, and the drummer – Roger – shot her a wink when she walked in.

“Guys, this is Rose.” Brian stuttered slightly and rubbed the back of his head. “We met at the college yesterday. You already know Roger, of course.”

Roger waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, so _this_ is Rose.” He jumped up, and placed a kiss on Rose’s hand. “Enchant-ay.”

“It’s _enchanté,_ Darling.” The lead singer flicked his hair out of his face and kissed Rose twice on the cheeks. “It’s so lovely to meet you, I’m Freddie.” Rose smiled shyly, absolutely entranced by his persona. Close up, Rose could see his eyes were ringed in eyeliner and his cheekbones were even deeper than she thought possible. 

The bass player shook her hand kindly. “I’m John, thanks for coming to see us.” 

She nodded, shifting her weight with nerves. “Thank Brian for inviting me.” She looked up at him with a smile. He returned it. 

There was a moment of silence, before Freddie said loudly, “Sit! Sit. I’ll get you a beer.” 

The two sat on one of the sofas in the room, and Rose thanked Freddie as he offered her a drink. She sipped it, her head already feeling heavy from the one she had earlier. 

As the conversation flowed, the group got drunker – and louder. After an interesting recreation of Roger’s drumming in _Keep Yourself Alive_ – which involved John creating the _CRASH_ of the symbols with his mouth and Roger beat-boxing – Rose checked her watch. 

“Oh no, it’s so late,” she whined, “I have to go.” She stood up amid cries of despair from the boys, and grabbed her coat.  

“You can’t go!” John complained. “It’s only... early.” 

Freddie raised his glass in the air, grinning proudly. “I call for an after party!”  

The other three cheered in unison, and Rose shook her head.  “I can’t-“ 

“Please?” Brian asked quietly, looking up at her.

Rose bit her lip, before melting slightly at the pleading gaze he was giving her. She sighed, before smiling softly. “Fine. _One_ drink.” 

Roger let out a loud shriek of happiness. “To the clubs!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing the concert scene SO MUCH. It was almost as if I was there! I hope I did it justice. Enjoy xx


	3. Some Day One Day

The five managed to squeeze into the most popular club in London after a few choice words from Freddie. They slipped into a secluded booth as the music thumped around them.

“I’ll get the drinks!” John called out. He pointed at each of them, “Vodka, vodka, vodka, vodka and... _double_ vodka.” He turned his finger to himself. Rose laughed as he wobbled away.

“He’s absolutely shitfaced.” Brian chuckled as he threw his arm around Rose, who blushed deeply.

“ _You’re_ shitfaced, Bri.”

That earned her a cackle from Roger. “She's got you there.”

John soon returned with the drinks, and they all clinked them together. “To being legends!” Freddie cried, before necking his drink. The rest did the same, and Rose looked at hers apprehensively. After a nudge from Brian, she followed suit, and spluttered on the bitter taste.

John snorted and grinned, “first time?”

“First time drinking it straight.” Rose admitted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Get used to it if you’re going to be hanging around with us.” He winked, downing his second shot.

Soon the music changed to a funkier beat, and Freddie perked up. “Time to dance – you’re coming with me, Rosie-Posie.” He stood up and pulled Rose with him onto the dance floor.

Brian watched them leave the table, butterflies dancing around in his stomach from a mix of the alcohol and from just being with her. Even though he’d only known her for a day, he already felt more connected with her than anybody else.

“Oi, you sap,” Roger playfully punched him on the shoulder. “You told us she was a swot like you.”

“I said she was a _student,_ Rog. Not all of us are like that.”

He smirked slightly after taking a gulp of his pint. “You’re bloody smitten with her already.”

Brian rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the flush creeping up his skin. He cursed at how well his friends could read him. “I’m not.”

“Well then,” Roger grinned wickedly, “you won’t mind if I go and do _this_.” He downed the rest of his beer and leapt up. He headed into the flowing crowd of people in the dance floor and flashed Brian a wink, before disappearing in Rose’s direction. Brian felt his heart as it sunk to his feet,

John raised his eyebrows silently as he stirred his pint with his pinkie finger.

“What?” Brian asked defensively. John silently smirked.

“You shouldn’t let him piss you off like that.”

Brian ran his fingers through his curls, groaning quietly, “He has a bloody special talent.”

He chuckled slightly, before grinning drunkenly at his friend. “Everything will be hunky-dory in the end, mate.” Brian sighed, and looked fondly at John.

“Thanks, Deaky. You’re always wiser when you’re drunk.”

-

Brian stewed over his pint for a while, refusing to look in the direction of the dance floor. His resentment of Roger grew by the minute – he glanced at his watch and finished the last of his drink. It was time to go home.

“Bri?”

A soft, slightly slurred voice appeared from above him, and he looked up in surprise. Rose’s face was pink with excitement as she pouted.

“Come and dance with me. _Pleeease_.”

“No.” Brian shook his head, looking away. Rose took his hand and tugged it slightly. He raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought you were dancing with Roger.”

Rose suppressed a giggle with her hand, and for a moment Brian lost himself in the melodic noise. “Roger’s dancing with some girl; I’ve been waiting for you.”

His heart skipped a beat, and he smiled nervously. “Yeah?”

She smiled mischievously, and he allowed her to lead him into the crowd as a disco-esq song started playing. They started to dance.

Brian wasn’t much of a dancer, and he hated disco music, but he pretended just to watch Rose move. She seemed to encompass every beat with her movements, her hands running down her body and through her hair. It seemed as if all the lights in the club were trained on her as she glowed angelically. Brian gazed at her, entranced. She looked up at him, and smiled innocently.

The throng of excited people pushed them closer together as another song started, and Brian placed his hands on Rose’s hips to stop them from toppling over. Rose laughed at Brian’s nervous face, and placed her arms around his neck.

“I’m so happy I met you...” Rose said with a smile, looking up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “I think this will change my life.”

Brian shook his head with a chuckle. “You, my love, are _very_ drunk. Do you want me to take you home?”

She thought for a moment, and then nodded. “My cat misses me.”

With a chuckle, Brian looped an arm around her waist and led her out of the crowd. Even though he was quite tipsy, he wasn't near as bad as her. As they headed out, Freddie bounded out in front of them with a large grin.

“Leaving already, Rosie-Posie?” he leaned down and kissed her twice on the cheeks, and once on the lips for luck. “We’ll see you soon, Brian will make sure of it.” Brian rolled his eyes in amusement, gently batting his friend out of the way.

“Of course,” Rose grinned widely, “you can’t get rid of me that easily.” They hugged once more, before Brian led her out of the club. Rose shivered in the cool night air, tugging her coat tighter around her. Brian moved closer to her as they started to walk in the way Rose directed.

Their hands bumped together as they walked, and Brian spent most of the journey working up the courage to link them. His long fingers twitched out and locked onto Rose’s, and he noticed her smile from the corner of her eye.

Brian walked Rose to her home, their hands together between them. Rose hummed drunkenly, a contented smile on her face. Brian kept trying to think of a conversation starter, but didn’t want to stop her from singing.

They soon reached the front door of Rose’s house. As they stood on the doorstep, Brian turned and glanced down at a shorter girl beside him. Rose felt sleep creep over her, and she rubbed her eyes absentmindedly.

“Thank you for walking me home, Bri, and thank you for the brilliant night.”

“Anytime, love.” Brian rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m... I’m really happy you came. I had a good night.”

“And so did I... evidently,” she laughed softly, before tracing her fingers over his palms. “I’m glad I met you.” Her eyes twinkled as she smiled.

He grinned, nodding. “I guess it was fate.”

“Should an astrophysics student believe in fate?” Rose challenged, and they both laughed. The two stared at each other for a moment, comfortable silence passing between them. Rose felt Brian brush her hair out of her eyes, and rest his fingers on her cheek. He gently guided his hands to her jaw, and leaned down.

Their lips met softly, almost hesitantly. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she placed her hands on Brian’s chest. She fisted at his shirt, and he cupped her cheeks delicately. Their eyes were closed as their mouths moved in tandem, hesitantly grazing against each other. The kiss ended with shared smiles, and Rose stifled a shy giggle.

“Give me your hand,” she whispered.

Brian raised an eyebrow in confusion and offered his hand. Rose clasped it, fumbling around in her handbag for a pen. She found one and scribbled down her number. She beamed at him. “Call me.”

He nodded, taking a moment to respond properly, “I definitely will.”

Rose shot him one last nervous smile, before opening her door. She paused as she turned to go inside, before quickly turning and kissing Brian one last time. He chuckled as she pulled away.

“Have a good night, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me soooo long to write sorry guys! I'm busy with exams and school but I do try to write at any point. Hope you all enjoy x


	4. Sleeping on the Sidewalk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me waaay to long and I don't really like it- it's quite filler-y but it has lots of BrianXRose for all of you who enjoy them :)

Rose waited for Brian’s call, but it never came. The traditional three day waiting period came and went, and Rose finally gave up. Her mind was still filled with images of Brian – the feel of his lips gently brushing against hers, the feel of his calloused fingers on her skin, the beating of his heart underneath her hands – it completely clouded her mind, so much so she found herself daydreaming about him in her lectures.

She constantly thought of the music they played. The electricity she felt while listening to them still coursed through her veins, and her fingers itched to play her own instruments, but still she stopped herself. Habit, she guessed.

Eventually, Rose decided to escape her dreary house and head to Kensington market in an attempt to take her mind of Brian. She was in need for some new music. She still loved her albums, but since seeing Queen, none of her music sounded the same.

The market was as busy as usual, crowds of London citizens swarming around the many stalls and a general hum of chatter waved through the bazaar. Rose sent a silent prayer of thanks that it wasn’t raining, and headed to her favourite record stand.

Rose quietly hummed under her breath as she flicked through the albums, ignoring everything around her. Her mind was a mess of thoughts. She barely even noticed when somebody called her name.

“Rose!”

An excited blond boy appeared in a flurry of furs and sunglasses. Roger smiled toothily at her. “Fancy seeing you here.”

With an amused smile, Rose turned to Roger. “Fancy seeing _you_ here, more like. Are you stalking me?”

“Nah,” Roger laughed with a shake of his shaggy head. “Fred and I own a stall down that way.” He nudged his thumb in the direction behind him, and then peered curiously at the record in her hand. “I didn’t peg you as a Deep Purple kind of girl.”

“I – I just wanted to try something new.” Rose explained with a sheepish grin.

“We take a lot of inspiration from them, you know,” Roger grinned as he took the album from her and flipped it. “Ian Paice, brilliant drummer. Of course, not as good as yours truly.” He flashed Rose a mischievous wink.

She rolled her eyes and took the record back; she handed over a couple of pounds to the seller and tucked the record under her arm. “Of course, Rog.” Rose teased.

After a few seconds of silence, she tentatively asked the question that had been burning at the back of her throat. “How’s Brian?”

Roger’s expression immediately turned into a devilish smirk. “Don’t you mean, ‘Lover Boy’?”

“No, I don’t.” Rose replied shortly as she avoided eye contact, instead deciding her shoes were much more interesting to look at. Roger frowned.

“I thought you two liked each other?”

Rose shrugged. “So did I, but then he decided to not call me back. So I guess I misread the situation.”

Furrowing his brow, Roger shook his head, “No, Brian definitely liked you. He wouldn’t shut about you when he came back.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, really!” Roger insisted, “Rose, he was different with you.” He pursed his lips slightly, and then pulled out a pen from one of his coat pockets. He scribbled down a number on the back of the record.

“Do not tell me you’re trying to give me your number.” Rose asked incredulously.

Roger chuckled quietly. “It’s not mine. Give that tosser a ring and ask him why he’s being a prick. I’m sure he’s got an answer.”

Rose glanced at the number before smiling slightly. “Thanks, Rog.”

“Anytime, love.” He glanced behind him, and then grinned. “I better get back; Freddie has probably sold the entire stall to pay for another album. Enjoy your record; tell me what you think of it.” He flashed her a sparkling grin, before disappearing back into the crowds of Kensington. Rose watched him leave, a slight pout on her face. She glanced down at the record and sighed, before dropping it into her bag and heading back towards the bus stop.

-

“ _Hello?”_

Rose sucked in a breath as she wound the cord of her phone around her pinkie finger. “Brian?”

There was a silence aside from a few crackly breaths. “ _Rose?”_

“You got it.”

There was a large clamour on the other end of the call; a few _thumps_ and a cry that sounded suspiciously like Freddie. Rose tried to suppress a smile.

 _“Rose! I’m so sorry I haven’t called-“_ There was another struggle “- _Piss off Deaky! When I went back to the club these bastards showered me with beer – your number got rubbed off my hand. I’ve been trying to find you for days!”_

Rose felt her heart rise from her feet to her chest and it thumped happily; if she were in a cartoon, it would be pumping in and out of her skin and large red hearts would be floating around her. “Here I thought I imagined the whole thing,” she said with a giggle.

“ _Of course you didn’t,”_ there was a soft pause, and Brian stuttered slightly, before dropping his voice a little lower. “ _I really want to see you again_.”

She swallowed and her blush deepened. “I would like that.” Rose admitted, unable to say much more. She could practically hear Brian’s smile through the phone. “Come over.” She asked boldly, squeezing the phone tightly. There was a silence, and Rose cursed herself for being too forward.

_“Is seven okay?”_

-

Rose had frantically scrubbed her flat clean, throwing out the numerous wine bottles and scattered research papers. She’d thrown on a nicer top and her most flattering pair of jeans, making sure to place a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table by the sofa. She fretted with her hair in the mirror, before taking a moment to look over herself.

“Calm down,” she whispered. “He’s just a man. A very nice man. A very nice, attractive, sweet man. Bollocks.” She rubbed some lipstick off her teeth.

Lily sat by her and meowed quietly, and Rose knelt down to scratch her ear, pouting with nerves.

A few seconds later the doorbell rang with a loud clang. Rose felt her stomach jump into her throat as she headed to the door, and she took a breath to steady her nerves.

Brian grinned nervously when Rose opened the door, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bunch of roses in the other and a bag of takeaway food slung on his arm. He held out the roses with a blush.

“Hi.”

Rose laughed softly and took the flowers from him, stepping back so he could come in. “Roses for the Rose?” she asked teasingly as she headed into the kitchen to put them in a vase. Brian chuckled and followed her.

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl.” He winked and placed the wine and the food on the counter. “I got fish and chips from the place down the road, is that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect.” Rose smiled widely when she looked him over – his hair was tucked neatly behind his ears, and a smart but casual shirt was stretched over his skinny frame. His jeans fit snugly around his waist, and she raised an eyebrow at his heeled clogs. She blushed when she realised Brian was also staring at her.

Before she could tease him, Brian dropped the food bags into the floor and cupped her face in both of his hands, pressing their mouths together desperately. Rose let out a squeak when he lifted her up with surprising strength and placed her delicately on her kitchen counter. Even now, Rose still had to crane her neck so their lips could meet.

She hooked her arms around her neck as she tugged him closer to her, her fingers weaving through his curls as she gently pulled at them.

Brian’s hands moved down to her waist as he pressed his finger tips into her skin. He felt her lips quirk up into a smile and she pulled away, her mouth swollen and pink.

“What was that for?” she asked, slightly out of breath. Brian brushed her hair out of her eyes, his own face flushed.

“I needed to kiss you again,” he admitted, chuckling slightly. His eyes widened slightly. “I’m sorry if that was too forward- I didn’t even ask- bloody hell, I’m so-”

Before he could ramble any longer, Rose cut him off by kissing him softly again. She laughed at his surprised expression.

“-Sorry...” Brian looked at her as if she was the most extraordinary thing in the world, admiration evident on his face. She gave him a smile, her eyes twinkling.

“Go into the other room, I’ll bring the food.” Rose gently pushed him off her, sliding down off the kitchen side. He nodded, and kissed her forehead once before heading into the other room. Rose gently rubbed the spot his lips touched, grinning happily.

When she headed into the lounge with two plates of food, Rose found Brian nose deep in her record collection with Lily wound around his legs, meowing for attention. She raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you judging my music collection?”

“No...” he shifted slightly, a mischievous flash passing over his face, “...maybe. You’ve got some shit in here.”

Rose gasped in mock offence. “Sorry, Mr I’m-In-A-Rock-Band.” She sat on her sofa, pouring two glasses of wine and biting into a chip.

Brian laughed, pulling out the Deep Purple record Rose had bought earlier. “Now _this_ is music.” He ran his fingers over the album, before he flipped it over and frowned slightly. “Is that- _is that my phone number_?”

“Oh-!” Rose blushed furiously. “I bumped into Roger earlier in Kensington and he gave it to me.” Brian chuckled deeply, placing the record carefully on her player and pressing play. The sounds of _Speed King_ filled the room as he came to sit next to her.

They listened and ate, talking softly about anything and everything. Brian told them how Queen was formed; how he used to find Freddie a tad strange when they first met; when they found John. Rose listened, entranced, to the numerous stories of him and his band mates.

The night passed quickly, the food haven been eaten and the wine being drunk especially quickly. The two of them were tipsy as they giggled with each other. Rose ended up watching Brian as he spoke passionately about the stars and the planets, his own head thrown back onto the sofa.

“...And technically, all humans are made of stardust. Even though that sounds like a line from one of Fred’s songs, it’s scientifically proven. It’s very interesting- almost every element on Earth was formed in the heart of a star.” He looked down at Rose, smiling. “I guess you can see the star in some more than others.”

“You’re cheesy,” Rose mumbled, sipping at her drink carefully. They were on the last track of the record, and the two had managed to shift closer together until Brian was practically on Rose’s lap. He moved to rest his hand on her leg, leaning towards her.

“And you’re beautiful.” Brian smiled slightly, before biting his lip. He furrowed his brow slightly, “before I make a fool of myself... this isn’t just a physical thing, is it?” He pointed at the two of them, his eyes hopeful.

Rose thought for a second. Her stomach did backflips as she remembered how she had felt over the last few days – the quiet excitement of meeting Brian in the library, the exhilarating feeling of her first Queen concert, the warmth of her first kiss with him – no, what she felt could never be purely physical. She shook her head, and Brian’s face cracked into a large grin.

“Good... I guess I have permission to kiss you again?”

“Mm,” Rose smiled up at him, “I guess you do.” Brian chuckled slightly, and their lips met just as the last song ended.


	5. Leaving Home Ain't Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taken me so long to write this chapter!!! I'm having bad writers block :((

Everything seemed to fall into place for Rose and Brian after that night.

They couldn’t see each other every day, but when they did they made the most of it; Rose attended recording sessions, hung out at Brian’s shared flat with the three other members of Queen. If she could attend, Brian begged Rose to come to his gigs, and she happily obliged most of the time - more often than not, Rose had to force Brian out of her flat to even go to his shows.

The other boys had taken to Rose completely; whenever she saw him, Freddie fawned over her – he constantly played with her hair, dressed her up, and painted her nails whenever he did his own. She was practically his personal doll.

Roger was still the tease he was when they first met, but it was harmless, and Rose soon discovered he was a huge softie. John was a little more reserved, but the two bonded over their shared love of disco music (which Rose found out Brian absolutely hated).

Queen’s shows had become bigger in even the last month. They sold out almost hours after being announced; the pubs had to start hiring bouncers to keep out the dedicated fans. It made Rose’s heart swell with pride when she watched from the side of the stages, although it did twist slightly when she saw all the girls in crowds. However, even though she loved the thrill of their shows, she treasured their time alone – although it was often broken up by Brian ripping up his notebook in anger.

“Argh!”

Rose jumped as she heard the shout from her living room. She popped her head around the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. “What’s all the screaming about?”

Brian was sat miserably on the floor in front of the sofa. Crumpled pieces of paper surrounded him as he ran his hands through his thick hair. Rose could practically feel the stress rolling off him, and she smiled sympathetically.

He groaned in exhaustion. “I’ve been trying to write this song for bloody ages. The deadline for the album is in a month, and I can’t even get words down on paper!”

With a thoughtful pout, Rose quickly left the room. She returned after a few minutes with two steaming mugs of tea. “Tea fixes everything.”

“If tea could write these lyrics for me, that would be marvellous.” Brian grumbled as he took the cup. “Thanks, love.” He added as an afterthought, watching her as she sat down next to him.

Rose slid Brian’s paper over to her. “Do you mind?” Brian shook his head, leaning his head onto her shoulder. Rose picked up the song and sipped at her drink as she read.

The lyrics were beautifully written, intricately woven into melody – Rose didn’t expect anything less. Brian bit his thumbnail nervously as he waited.

“It’s shit, isn’t it?” he grumbled.

Rose rolled her eyes, “Shut up. It’s extraordinary. I wish I could write this.”

“You can.” Brian paused after a second, before passing her a pen. “Go on, write the last verse.” Rose suppressed a giggle and shook her head in refusal. Brian nudged her. “Do it! You can’t be worse than Rog.”

She twiddled the pen in her hands, before she leant her head over the paper and began scribbling what came to mind. Rose was silent for a few minutes, then she passed the paper back to Brian.

Brian took it from her and scanned the last verse.

_“When I was you and you were me, and we were very young,_

_Together took us nearly there, the rest may not be sung._

_So still the cloud it hangs over us and we’re alone,_

_But some day one day, we’ll come home.”_

The words were hauntingly beautiful; they fit with the song perfectly, and Brian felt the stress leave his shoulders as he read through the lyrics. His face broke out into a large smile.

“You, Rosalind Grant, are a genius.”

He tugged her to him, planting his lips happily on hers. She squeaked in surprise, content to mirror his actions. Rose pulled away with a laugh, and he peppered appreciative kisses all over her face. She squirmed away, grinning. “Those lyrics are perfect!” he exclaimed.

Rose blushed shyly, before smirking slightly, “if you’re going to use my writing, I only have one thing to ask.” She rubbed her thumb affectionately across Brian’s cheek. He raised an eyebrow.

“Hm?”

She gently brushed her lips against his, “I want you to sing it, on the album.” She looked up at him hopefully, her eyes pleading. Rose had heard Brian singing; in the shower when he thought she was asleep, under his breath when he wrote down his lyrics. His voice wasn’t like Freddie’s, she couldn’t deny it, but there was something in his tone that made goose bumps travel up and down her arms.

Brian frowned slightly, “Fred’s the singer.”

“So?” Rose smiled, “Roger’s got his voice on the record, I think you should as well.”

He chuckled slightly, looking down at the song. “If it means I get to use your lyrics... I guess I can ask.”

Rose laughed excitedly, hugging the man in front of her tightly. He embraced her, smiling as he buried his face into her hair. He murmured something quietly, and Rose pulled away.

“What was that?”

His face was red as he looked down at her nervously. He let out a shaky breath. “Be my girlfriend.”

Rose was silent for a second, her heart caught in her throat as Brian hastily continued, “of course, if you don’t want too, it’s fine. I mean, if you want to be casual I’m okay with that. It’s-“ He was cut off by Rose kissing him softly, and she laughed.

“You talk too much, Mr May. Of course I’ll be your bloody girlfriend.” Rose had butterflies practically doing the conga in her stomach as she saw the smile erupt on Brian’s face. He ran his hand through his curls, letting out a breath.

“Yes, well, right. That’s good. Er- thank you?”

As Rose went to tease him, her telephone rang shrilly from the hall. “One moment,” she bounced up from where she was sitting, and went to answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Rosie, dear!”

“Freddie? How did you get this number?”

She heard the unmistakable drag of a cigarette, and two lower voices bickering in the background. “Never mind that, darling, now come and fucking let us in! I’m freezing my tits off in this phonebox.”

There was a loud knock on the door, and Roger’s voice screamed through the letterbox. “We know you’re in there, Bri! Your shitty car is outside.”

“Don’t let them in!” Brian called from the living room. Rose laughed, heading to her front door and opening it. Before her were three grinning, shivering boys. They all bundled into her warm home, kicking off their shoes and nattering all at once.

“Sorry for coming round with such short notice, Rose-“ “Can I smoke in here, lovely?” “Brian! Your Missus got any beer?”

Roger hurried up the stairs to the flat with Freddie in tow, and John grinned sheepishly at his host. “Hope we’re not interrupting, we’ve just had important news, that’s all.”

Rose raised an eyebrow, the words piquing her interest. She followed the bassist to her living room in time to see Freddie snatch the song off Brian and start reading it. Lily wound herself around his legs, mewling with the excitement of strangers in the flat.

“This is good, Brian...” He mused, tapping the beat with his heel. “... _Very_ good.”

Brian made a grumpy “Mmph,” sound, hiding his pout from behind his curls. Rose sat behind him and he rested on her legs, then sighed contently when she ran her nails over the nape of his neck. “You guys really do pick the worst times.”

Roger trudged into the living room, beer in hand. “Remember when you walked in on me and those twins? Consider this payback.” Brian stuck out his middle finger at the drummer, who grinned wickedly and glugged at his drink.

“Darling Brian, we have an announcement,” Freddie flicked his cigarette out the window, before turning to the couple with a hand on his hip. He flashed them an award winning smile and waved his fingers with a flourish. “When we’ve finished this album, we’re going on tour!”

Brian’s eyes widened and he sat up straight. “Tour?”

“We’ve got bookings from nearly every pub and university south of Glasgow,” John confessed with a proud look on his face. Roger laughed at Brian’s shocked face, moving to sit next to Rose on the couch,”

“Nearly _every_ pub and uni?” Brian asked hoarsely, standing up. He ran his fingers through his hair, frowning in confusion.

Roger nodded, throwing his arm around Rose. “We’re going to be rock stars. We’re going to be _famous_ ,” he said dreamily, “are you excited for us, love?”

“Of course I am.” Rose swallowed slightly. In reality, her heart had sunk all the way down to the bottom of her stomach. She had read enough newspapers to know what happened when bands went on tour. She nervously bit her lip.

Freddie looked over at her, and raised an eyebrow. “There’s a fifth seat in Roger’s van.” He said nonchalantly, lighting another cigarette and blowing the smoke out with a grin. “If anybody wants to take it.”

Brian immediately looked at Rose. “Come with us, Rose.” He blurted out, his face innocent and pleading. “Come with _me_.”

“What?” Shock was evident on Rose’s face and the dread in her stomach slowly turned into excitement. “But- I can’t just pack up and leave. What about university?”

Roger scoffed, “Love, we’re all dropping out.” Rose gave him a shove and rolled her eyes.

“You can take your exams at the end of the month, you’ll have term time off after that.” John pointed out helpfully, his own tone hopeful. Rose frowned nervously.

“And my cat?” Freddie picked up Lily and peppered her forehead with kisses. She purred contently.

“Mrs Masters could watch her? I’m sure she’d be happy too.” Brian gave a small smile. “Please, Rose. Come with us.”

Roger leant his head on her shoulder, grinning cheerily. “Pleeeease.” John and Freddie joined in, until the room was filled with harmonies pleading. Rose covered her eyes, her own face splitting into laughter.

“Alright!” she shouted, giggling. “Alright, I’ll come.”

The boys let out cheers of success, and Brian swept Rose into his arms as he hugged her tightly. He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “Thank you.”


	6. Sail Away Sweet Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh some ~mystery~ in this chapter!

_1974_

“We love you Bristol! Thank you and... good night!”

Freddie waved at the crowd, grinning happily as he bounded off the stage. John and Brian followed and Roger brought up the rear after tossing his drum sticks into the crowd. The four dripped with sweat, and laughed together. Brian looked around the backstage eagerly, and smiled when he spotted his girlfriend rushing towards them in a flurry of blonde hair.

“You guys were amazing!” Rose exclaimed as she hugged them each in turn. She gave Brian a soft kiss, and he squeezed her hips appreciatively. “Honestly, you sound better and better every night.” Brian looked down at the smaller woman under his arm, affection swelling in his chest.

“Thank you, Rosie-Posie.” Freddie patted her cheek as the five walked towards their dressing room. “I do believe we performed exceptionally well tonight. Well, I know _I_ did.”

Roger nodded in agreement, “Did you see the group of girls in the front row?” he whistled lowly. “We should come to this city more often.” The rest of the band groaned, and shook their heads.

“Some of us are committed, Roger,” Brian teased, his arm tight around Rose’s shoulder, who nudged him slightly. Roger rolled his eyes.

“Well, _I’m_ going to have fun tonight at least. You two can go back to the hotel and read books, or whatever it is you do.”

Rose smirked devilishly, “wouldn’t you like to know what we do, Rog?”

Freddie and John sniggered at Roger’s confused expression and Brian’s flushed face. He held her a little tighter and swallowed his mouth suddenly dry. Rose was only teasing the drummer. They hadn’t done much more than kiss in the two months they had been together; Brian didn’t mind, he’d never force Rose into doing something she was uncomfortable doing, but... a man has _needs_. Even now, in the cropped shirt and short skirt she was wearing, he had to stop his mind from wandering.

“Who’s up for a couple of drinks to celebrate the last week of the tour?” John smiled hopefully. There was a chorus of agreement as the band entered the dressing room, before stopping dead in their tracks. The group of girls from the front row squealed at the sight of the foursome, and Rose was unceremoniously pushed aside when they jumped on them.

Brian looked over at Rose as the groupies babbled at them excitedly with a small pout, and he mouthed ‘sorry’ with a pleading expression. She smiled and poured herself a glass of wine instead. This had become a regular occurrence; she was used to it.

The girls laughed shrilly at one of Roger’s jokes. John grimaced slightly, and Freddie merely looked disinterested. Brian kept his eye on Rose, who ran her fingers through her hair as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She loved being on tour with the boys, but it was more stressful than she could’ve ever imagined. The late nights, the constant ringing in her ears, everything. It was exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. Rose felt like her heart was always thumping just a couple beats too many. She missed her cat desperately.

The experience of watching the band perform every night, however, she wouldn’t change for the world. Freddie was infectiously energetic on stage – his voice shuddered through the speakers into the crowd, every song specially moulded around his tone. Roger was in his element every night, introducing the songs from his drum set and often pouring beer all over it (and himself). John had opened up even more whilst on tour, showing his funny side and enjoyment for dancing, which made Rose grin.

Hearing Brian sing every night was the cherry on top of everything; Freddie had enthusiastically agreed to let Brian sing ‘ _Some Day One Day_ ’, and Brian sung the last verse directed at Rose – his eyes always wandered to hers and he stared at her as he finished the song, and always ended with a wink. The fans loved it, of course.

After a few minutes, the door to the dressing room shut with a dull ‘ _thunk_ ’, and Rose felt two hands on her hips.

“Sorry about that, love.” . Brian looked at her warily in the mirror, biting his lip nervously as he murmured, “Roger’s taken them to the bar.”

“Of course he has.” Rose said tiredly, reapplying her lipstick from where it has smudged off. Brian gently ran his fingers over her exposed midriff, and she shivered.

He leant forward to brush her hair to the side, and planted a small kiss to the back of her neck. “Is everything okay?”

Rose turned so she was facing her boyfriend, and gave him a soft grin. “Everything’s okay. Just tired, that’s all. I’ll be fine after a few drinks.” She raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her wine. “What time are we setting off for Exeter tomorrow?”

“Eight ‘o’clock sharp,” Brian whined slightly, “I can feel my head hurting just thinking about it.”

With a smile, Rose pressed a kiss to Brian’s cheek. “Only a couple more shows, then we’ll be back in London.” Brian hummed in agreement, and leant down to capture her lips in his.

“Oi!” Freddie called out, “we’re getting drinks! Are you coming or not?”

The two broke apart, and Rose grinned slightly, “We’re coming!” She threw back the remainder of her wine, and tugged Brian to follow Freddie and John out of the room.

The group settled into the secluded bar, and Roger soon joined them after the groupies had left. They started with a round of shots, and then decided to remain with a few beers. As they got tipsier and tipsier, the conversation turned to a rather interesting game of truth or dare.

“Rose!” Roger smirked crookedly, “Truth or dare?”

“Mhm,” Rose leant on Brian’s arm, equal parts tired and drunk, “truth. I don’t want to have to move from this spot.”

The blonde boy tapped his chin thoughtfully, and then grinned. “What’s your favourite part of Brian’s body?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Rose snorted slightly.

“Really?” she asked with a smile, and shook her head. She took a slow gulp of her drink and said airily, “probably his fingers.”

After a few seconds of stunned silence, she sat up straight with wide eyes. “No, _not_ in that way!” The others burst into laughter, holding their stomachs as they howled. Freddie had his face on the table as his shoulders shook with his giggles; Roger was full on belly laughing; and John had his hands over his mouth as he chuckled. Even Brian was sniggering, his own cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and laughter.

“I hate you all.” Rose said miserably, “I just meant because he plays guitar so well.”

Freddie wiped tears from his eyes, “Yeah, s _ure._ ”

“Alright then, Mr Mercury - truth or dare?” Rose challenged. Freddie merely smiled innocently.

“Dare.”

Rose paused. “Kiss Roger.” The singer shrugged, turned to Roger, and planted a wet kiss on his lips. He pulled away with a loud “SMACK!”, and bowed. Roger blinked happily.

“I feel... blessed.”

The group dissolved into laughter once again, and Rose clung onto Brian as she giggled. During their howling, one of the hotel staff came up to their booth, and cleared their throat. The group slowly stopped chuckling, and Brian looked up at the bellboy with a large grin. “Can we help you?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” the young boy looked slightly nervous in their presence, “but there’s a phone call for Miss Grant.”

Rose frowned slightly, “Who is it?”

“They didn’t say, Miss.”

Her eyebrows furrowed deeper and she stood up; she wobbled a little in her tipsy state, and Brian steadied her. Rose squeezed his shoulder before following the bellboy to the phone. She took the receiver and placed it against her ear.

“Hello?”

Static crackled through the phone, and Rose could hear a few shallow breaths. She sighed slightly.

“Hello... I know you’re there.” She rubbed her forehead, and just wanted to get back to Brian.

“ _Rosalind?”_

Rose frowned – the American accent was familiar. “Who is this?”

“ _It’s me, Juliet.”_

Her eyes widened, and it felt like an anchor had been tied to feet and plunged into the ocean. Her throat closed as she struggled to speak.

“Why- Why are you calling me?” Rose stammered hoarsely, the hand holding the phone shaking. She hadn’t spoken to Juliet since she’d moved to London.

“ _It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to my baby sister.”_

“You took your time.”

“ _It’s been difficult, with Mom and everything... but she’s different now, Rosie-“_

Rose closed her eyes and muttered quietly, “Don’t call me that.”

Juliet audibly sighed, “ _she just wants to see you, or speak to you. We’re coming to London next week, will you be there?”_

With a breath, Rose bit her lip, “and Dad?”

There was a pause on the other end, and Rose could hear the change in Juliet’s tone. “ _We’ll see you next week,”_ she audibly swallowed, “ _I love you_.”

Rose bottom lip wobbled slightly, “bye.” She hung the phone up, and a few tears escaped over her cheeks. She leant against the wall and rubbed the tears from her face, and sighed. Her last conversation with her sister rang through her head.

-*-

_1968_

_“Run away then, just like you always do!” Juliet screamed up the stairs. “You won’t get far, Mom and Dad will be back any minute!”_

_Rose furiously packed her rucksack, tears of anger streaming down her face. She zipped up the bag and threw it over her shoulder, then stormed down the stairs. Her sister stood by the door and glowered at her._

_“Move out of my way, Juliet.” Rose said lowly. Her sister shook slightly._

_“Why can’t you just do what Mom says?” she asked, her tone clipped. “Why do you have to be difficult?”_

_Rose rolled her eyes, “Because Mom isn’t always right! I don’t want to stay here with her anymore – I can’t do it, not with what she’s made me do.”_

_“This is because of that boy,” Juliet sniffed disapprovingly, “and that band. He turned you against us.”_

_She shook her head, “Maybe that was you, Jules. Maybe you could just think for a second and realise that this is Mom’s fault, not anyone else’s.” She moved to push past her sister._

_“Dad will never forgive you for leaving.” Juliet sneered._

_Rose paused, her heart breaking slightly in her chest. She breathed heavily for a second, before looking up at her sister with a pleading expression. “If you have any love for me left in you, you’ll do me this one favour. You won’t tell them where I’ve gone. Please.”_

_Juliet swallowed slowly, and then moved away from the door. Rose nodded at her with a silent thank you, and walked out of the door. She held her bag tightly, and headed in the direction of the town, a plane ticket to London gripped desperately in her hand._


	7. Let Me Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite like this chapter! Hope you all do too x Sorry for any mistakes its 1AM and I don't have time to read through it :D

Three words circled Rose’s mind. _Never forgive you. Never forgive you. Never forgive you._ They swam in front of her eyes, flashing as bright as the lights on the stage. Rose tried to push them out, but they just kept getting brighter, and louder, and bigger-

“Rose. Rose. _Rose!_ ”

A sharp nudge to her shoulder shook Rose out of her trance. Brian looked at his girlfriend in concern – Rose sat up a little straighter and rubbed her eyes, reassessing her surroundings. Roger hummed as he drove, his fingers tapping a beat out on the steering wheel. She glanced across the van to see Freddie curled up in the seats opposite, sound asleep with his hair covering his face and one of Brian’s coats thrown over him. John sat in front of them, lowly strumming his bass, the sound relaxing in Rose’s ears.

“Hm?” Rose glanced out of the window she had been leaning against; fields and countryside rushed past as their van drove down the motorway.

Brian moved his hand into hers. “You were miles away just then. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Rose mumbled. “I’m just tired.”

“You’ve been ‘just tired’ since Exeter.” Brian squeezed her hand, his eyes pleading. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Rose turned to look up at him with a raised eyebrow, and she forced a smile out. “Honestly, Bri, I’m okay. I just need to get home.”

Brian ran fingers gently across her face, and paused at the darker circles under her eyes. He softly pressed the pad of his thumb there, the frown still evident on his face. “I just want you to be alright.”

“I know,” Rose took Brian’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I know.” Brian placed a chaste kiss to her lips, and then leant back in his seat. Rose looked back out the window, letting Brian place his hand on her thigh as he went back to his book. The rolls of the countryside flashed past them in a blur, and Rose felt the dread seep deeper into her stomach every mile they got closer to London.

After a while of silence, John popped his head over the back of his seat. “Everything okay back here?” He smiled softly, and Rose returned it.

“Everything’s cool, just excited to get tonight’s show done.” She said quietly, “How long until we get back?”

John scrunched up his nose, before turning to the front of the van and shouting, “Roger, how much longer?”

“Two hours tops!” Roger called back, his voice slightly muffled from the cigarette hanging out of his lips. Rose heard Freddie groan at the sudden noise, and the shift under Brian’s coat signalled he was awake and not happy about it.

Brian rubbed his thumb up and down Rose’s thigh absentmindedly as he read, and Rose moved her head onto his shoulder. He moved to kiss her forehead, his eyes not leaving the page. “We’ll be home soon, darling.” Rose’s lips quirked up into an affectionate smile, and she closed her eyes.

\--

Freddie hummed lowly in the back of his throat, testing his voice before the last show at the Velvet Apple. Rose held his face still with her hands, attempting to blend the eyeliner she had just placed on his eyelid. Brian, Roger and John were all sound checking, having left the other two to their own devices.

“Fred, stop moving. You’ll ruin your makeup.” She chastised the man, who cracked open an eye with a cheeky grin.

“It’s the last show, darling; I’ve got to try and get my bitchy little vocal chords in order before tonight.”

Rose let out a small chuckle, moving to brush some bronzer over Freddie’s intense cheekbones, deepening them even more. “I know, but you won’t be happy when you go out there looking a mess, will you?”

He pouted slightly, “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Watch me,” Rose raised an eyebrow and smirked mischievously, but the smile fell after a few moments. She finished Freddie’s makeup in silence. “There, all done,” She said after swiping a dash of mascara over his eyelashes. Freddie looked in the mirror at himself appreciatively.

“You’re a genius, my dear.” He smiled happily and gave Rose a smacking kiss on the cheek, before standing up and heading behind his folding screen to get changed. Rose headed to the mirror to put her own makeup on, listening to Freddie as he sung nonsense as he dressed.

He came out after a few minutes, a tight, rhinestone body suit practically sewn onto his skin. His hair was fashionably mused, and one hand was encased in a black glove. He was a few inches taller, thanks to the heeled platforms now on his feet. Freddie nodded happily. “I think this clearly says ‘last show’, don’t you?”

Rose forced a laugh, her eyes deadpan. “You’re right.” As she started to pack her own makeup, Freddie gripped her wrist firmly. He turned t her, his cheerful expression now serious.

“Rose,” he began, “We know something’s wrong. You’ve been different for a week now. Whatever’s going on, it’s eating you up inside.”  Freddie moved from her wrist so their fingers met, and he held her hand softly.

Rose bit her lip softly, the sighed. “I can’t tell you, Freddie. I can’t tell you and not tell Brian, and I c _ertainly_ can’t tell Brian. Not until... not until I’ve sorted some things out.” She felt a lump raise in her throat, and she tried to swallow around it, instead making a whimpering sound. Freddie automatically wrapped his arms around Rose’s shoulders, and tugged him close to her for a hug. She buried her face into his sparkling shoulder, and tried to control the flood of tears that escaped down her cheeks.

When she pulled away, Freddie wiped her under eyes with his thumbs. He stayed silent, instead turning to rootle in Rose’s makeup bag. He quietly pulled free the eyeliner, and reapplied it softly. He patted her cheek when he was done.

“All better now.”

Rose looked up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Freddie. Really,”

Freddie brushed her hair from her face, and raised an eyebrow, “I better hear you singing along tonight,” he nudged her chin slightly, “and see that grin.”

“You will,” the smile Rose gave for once wasn’t forced, and Freddie gave her a kiss on the cheek as she left.

The crowds were heaving inside the venue- the tickets had sold out the day they were released, much to the excitement of the band. Rose pushed her way to the front of the bar, and the bartender flashed her a bright smile from behind the till. With a start, Rose realised it was the same one she met at her first Queen concert.

“Alright, love,” he said happily, “haven’t seen you around these parts in a while. Drink?”

Rose chuckled lightly, “Vodka tonic, please. I guess I’ve just been... away.” She raised an eyebrow mysteriously, and then laughed.

The bartender reached out his hand, “I’m Frank, by the way. I thought it would be good enough time to introduce myself.” Rose took his hand with a smile, and shook it.

“It’s good to officially meet you, I’m Rose.”

Frank swallowed, looking slightly nervous, “I was wondering, after the gig- would you want to grab a drink with me? One without me behind here, of course.” He gestured to the bar, before he scratched the back of his neck anxiously.

“Oh,” Rose felt a blush seep over her face, and she bit her lip. She gave Frank a sympathetic look, “I’m sorry, I’m kind of...  with someone now - have been for a couple of months.”

He nodded, his expression slightly disappointed, then grinned, “Don’t worry about it. I hope you guys are happy.”

“Thanks, Frank.” Rose smiled slightly, then opened her purse, “how much do I owe you?”

The bartender laughed slightly, then shook his head. “Nothing – people with the band get drinks for free.” He flashed Rose a wink, then moved off to serve an eager customer down the bar. Rose stood for a second, registering what he said, and then laughed softly. Was it really that obvious?

A familiar face in the crowds caught her eye, but before she could look closer, it had vanished. Rose frowned slightly, but put it down to the vodka already coursing through her bloodstream. Smoke began to fill the stage, and the fans let up a loud cheer.

Rose’s heart fluttered as Brian stepped up to his microphone, and he strummed the clear beginnings of ‘ _Keep Yourself Alive’_ , the one they always opened with. The way Brian’s fingers moved over his Red Special sent butterflies wild in Rose’s stomach, and she waved when he looked over at her. Freddie began to sing into his broken stand, and the crowd happily followed along. Rose nodded along appreciatively, but her eyes were trained on her boyfriend.

A prickling sensation flickered over the back of Rose’s neck, and the distinct thought of being watch crept over her. She frowned, glancing around her, but everyone else was focused on the band. Rose rubbed her neck, looking down at her feet as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She looked back over at the band, and Brian was staring at her, his own face concerned.

“You okay?” he mouthed to her, his fingers still playing completely in time. Deaky also looked over, his mouth set into a hard line. Rose nodded and waved him off, giving him an incredulous look. They continued to play, the song soon morphing into ‘ _The Loser in the End_ ’. The spotlights settled on Roger as he began his solo.

Rose drained her glass, only slightly tipsy, and continued to watch the concert. It went off without a hitch; Brian and John never missed a beat, Roger’s beer soaked drums were pounded perfectly, and Freddie’s flamboyant personality was a hit with the audience. The group finished with a rock and roll version of ‘ _God Save the Queen_ ’, and the crowd sung along drunkenly as they swayed. Rose watched with a smile, laughing as Freddie wrapped a Union Jack flag around John’s neck. As she looked over the audience, the feeling in her stomach imploded with fear, and the music around her disappeared. One face stood out to her – because it was staring right at her.

Blonde hair, slightly darker than Rose’s, was cut short - chin length. The expression the face wore was cold, completely different from the mood of the room, as it stared into Rose’s eyes. Juliet’s own eyes were almost dull, but a dash of hope sparked in them as she nodded her head in the direction of the exit.

Rose followed her out just as loud cheers and whistles exploded from the crowds, and Freddie’s booming voice yelled, “We love you, and goodnight!”

The February wind was bitterly cold, and Rose shivered in the slip dress she wore. Juliet looked her up and down as they stood outside the bar, her eyebrow raised.

“You’ve changed.”

The sheer intensity of her accent made Roses’ ears cringe, and she crossed her arms defiantly.

“Why are you here?” Rose’s own voice was steely, an octave lower than it usually was. Her sister snorted slightly.

“You’ve even got yourself a British accent now.” She teased, but her tone was cutting, “How cute.”

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh, the frustration already having settled in within the few seconds of her sister being there. “Answer my question, Juliet.”

Juliet paused after a second, and she coughed uncomfortably. “I’ll let Mom explain that bit. She’s back at the hotel.”

Rose felt her anger bubble at the mention of her mother, and the heat in her cheeks deepened. “I’m pretty sure last time we spoke I told her I never wanted to see her again.”

“She thinks you were just being a drama queen,” Juliet shrugged, “What’s this band that was on, anyway? That singer was a bit weird, wasn’t he? And don’t get me started on that guitarist’s _hair_!”

Before Rose could conjure up the bravery to scream at her sister, she saw the familiar mop of curls making its way towards her from the crowd. Her anger melted away, replaced only with a lump in her throat and the want for Brian’s arms around her.

When Brian reached her, Rose could practically feel the worry rolling of him. He completely ignored Juliet, instead placing his hands on Rose’s cheeks and looking down at her, his own expression upset.

“Are you okay, my love?” he whispered quietly, looking over her for any reason for her to be hurt. Rose placed a hand over his, smiling, and nodded. He shook his head, “I saw you leave the crowd – I almost ran off the bloody stage.”

“I’m fine, I am.” Rose leant up to give him a soft kiss, relaxing him immediately. He pulled away, and then finally noticed the other woman standing next to them.

Juliet’s expression was, simply, shocked. Her eyebrows were raised, her eyes wide, and her mouth was practically an ‘o’. Rose coughed slightly, and took Brian’s hand in hers.

“Bri... this is Juliet,” she swallowed slightly, “she’s my sister.”


	8. Long Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! We finally get an insight into Rose's backstory... TW, there is implied distressing material in this chapter!

“ _Sister_?” Brian’s voice was higher than usual, his face bewildered. He squinted as he peered curiously at Juliet, then at Rose, and then back at her sister.

“We look nothing alike, do we?” Juliet lifted her chin defiantly, her tone steely. Rose knew that Brian was _not_ someone she’d usually socialise with.

Brian’s own eyes widened, and he ran his hand through his hair as he let out a small, surprised scoff. “And you’re American, that’s... interesting.” He looked at Rose in exasperation, and she looked away guiltily.

Juliet looked between them, a frown deep on her face. “Is _this_ the reason you left home? To become a groupie? _Again?_ ”

“She’s not a-“

“I’m not a-“

“Brian!”

The crowds had more or less dispersed, and the rest of the band skipped over to them, ecstatic with the success of their final show. In that moment, Rose had never been so happy to see Queen be so shamelessly _them_.

Roger was somehow smoking two cigarettes whilst juggling his drumsticks and a pint, looking every type the ragamuffin Juliet would think he was in his tattered fur coat. John was already over the limit, evident in his tousled hair and drooping eyes, and the way he leant into Roger as they bounded towards the group. Freddie was half stripped of his body suit and encased in a long velvet cloak instead; his makeup dripped down his face from the sweat, the light dabbing of lipstick Rose had tapped onto his lips had smudged completely.

Juliet looked completely out of her depth, and Rose had never felt smugger.

“We thought you were going to run off halfway through the show!” Roger slapped Brian on the arm, smirking, “Rose got you that wound up, has she?” He flashed her a mischievous wink.

Freddie slid up to Rose and linked his arm into hers. “While I’m all for healthy sexual relationships, my dears, can we wait until _after_ the final songs?” John passed her a beer from the bag by his side, slinging his arm around her neck as he gave her a quiet hug.

“I wasn’t- that’s not why I rushed off,” Brian muttered as he snatched a drink from John, “I was worried, that’s all,”

Roger scoffed and shook his head – he suddenly noticed Juliet standing sullenly to the side, and his eyes sparked, “Who’s this, guys? A fan?” his face broke out into a smirk, “I’m Roger, although I’m sure you already knew that.”

Juliet sniffed unappreciatively, “I wouldn’t be a fan of _you_ even if you paid me.”

The band visibly recoiled, and the easy atmosphere quickly turned into a tense one. The band had heard regards like that before, but the venom in Juliet’s voice made them realise this wasn’t the normal nasty comment.

“This is the reason you left, isn’t it?” Juliet stared at Rose. Her confidence had fallen slightly, and she shrunk back between the two men.

“I left because _she_ made me. I had to go, you know that.” Rose’s voice was quieter as she tried to speak around the lump in her throat, and she looked down at her feet.

Juliet shook her head disbelievingly, her expression unsure. She dragged her eyes away from Rose to focus on Brian, and tilted her head slightly, “tell me, Curly, how much has she told you about herself? You seemed pretty surprised to know my sister _had_ a sister, so I’m guessing not a lot.”

“I- I guess-“ Brian’s expression turned to one of hurt as he rubbed the back of his head. “We haven’t really spoken about... family.”

“Bri,” Rose turned to her boyfriend, her voice cracking slightly, “I can explain-“

Immediately, Brian shook his head, and he wiped a hand over his face, “’M tired,” he muttered. “I’m heading back. I’ll...” his tone wavered uncertainly, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He turned on his heel, his guitar case in tow, and he stalked away from the pub. Freddie frowned as watched the guitarist leave.

Rose swallowed tearfully, and Freddie quickly squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry about it dear,” he muttered, “he’s just had a shock and a few drinks. He’ll be alright in the morning.”

“I’ll go back with him,” Roger pushed his hair from his face as he regarded Juliet with distaste in his eye, “Hope you have a happy family reunion,”

The bitterness in his voice made Rose’s heart hurt. The drummer rushed off in the direction of his friend, and Freddie rushed after them after realising he had the key to their apartment. John’s mouth set into a harsh line, and he looked down at Rose.

“I’m going to go and mediate that conversation,” he sighed, and then hugged Rose close, “Get home safe.”

Rose nodded, dumbfounded by the sudden change in mood, and watched as John headed after the rest of the band.

Juliet scoffed slightly, “You haven’t learnt anything, have you?”

“Leave it,” Rose’s voice was quiet. “You’ve done enough.”

“I’m just trying to protect you,” her sister said stiffly, “you can’t seem to do it by yourself.”

Rose turned to her sister, fire blazed in her eyes and her cheeks red. “Why do you care now? Why, after this many years, are you here?”

“I can’t tell you!” Juliet exploded back, her own voice rivalling Rose’s. The two sisters stared at each other, breathing heavily, before Juliet spoke again. Her voice cracked. “Mom doesn’t even know I’ve come tonight. I just wanted to see you before everything... got messed up.”

“What do you mean?” Rose asked desperately, and her own tears slipped down her cheeks. “You’re not making any sense.”

Juliet sucked in a breath. “Just... just meet Mom and me tomorrow, and hear her out. Please.”

There was a moment of silence, before Rose rubbed her eyes and stared at her sister. “If you don’t explain to me tomorrow, I will never speak to you again. And this time I really do mean it.”

\-------

The door to Rose’s apartment shut with a woeful _thump,_ and she leant her back against it with a sigh. She was exhausted; the night had drained her energy, and all she wanted to do was go to bed.

After feeding her hungry cat, Rose trudged into her room and sat on her bed sadly. She stared at her wall, and a large sigh left her chest. As she kicked her legs under her bed, her foot hit something hard with a _thunk_ , and she paused. She’d forgotten she even owned the item she’d just kicked. Crouching down by her bead, Rose peered under it, and pulled out the old guitar case.

She sat back on her bed, opened the case, and pulled the instrument out.

Rose trailed her fingers over the acoustic guitar, wincing a little at the dust that gathered over hr digits. She hadn’t played in years, but it was as easy as riding a bike, and she easily strummed the opening melody to _Blackbird,_ her favourite Beatles song. She hummed along, though her voice wavered as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“ _Blackbird singing in the dead of night... take these broken wings and learn to fly...”_

All the emotion of the afternoon finally overcame her, and that’s how Rose found herself slumped over her guitar, quietly sobbing. Lily sat by her, her own eyes wide as she looked up at her distressed owner.

Three loud knocks forced Rose out of her trance, and she looked anxiously around at the clock. _1 AM_ , She placed her guitar carefully by her bed, ready to apologise to an obviously angry neighbour.

Rose opened the door, her eyes downcast. “Sorry, I’ll keep it down,” she muttered as she peeked around the door

“Rose?”

Her eyes snapped up, and Brian stood in front of her. He was drenched, and had evidently been caught in the storm which was brewing. His hair was dripping and stuck to his face, and raindrops fell from his nose. His eyelashes were damp, although Rose couldn’t tell if it was from the rain or tears; his eyes were rather bloodshot. Brian offered her weak smile.

“It’s a bit wet out here. Can I come in?”

Rose sniffed slightly, and sidestepped so the taller man could come in. Brian ducked his head and shuffled nervously into her home. He kicked his clogs off, and shook his head so water droplets flew off him like a wet dog. Brian looked down at Rose with large, sorrowful eyes, and she mirrored his expression back to him.

The two stood in silence for a few moments, before Brian sighed, and rubbed his face. “Can I hold you?” he asked miserably. Rose bit her lip, and then nodded. Immediately, Brian’s long arms encircled her, and tugged Rose closer to him. Rose rested her forehead on her boyfriend’s chest, and slowly breathed in. Immediately she felt calmer, and she gripped the fabric of Brian’s dress shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Brian murmured, his lip pressed against her head. “I overreacted – it was the shock, and then I realised... we really don’t know too much about each other.”

Rose swallowed, “you never asked.”

“I’m asking now.” His voice was desperate, and Rose squeezed her eyes shut to stop more tears escaping, Brian glanced down at her, and then gently held her cheeks. “Why has this made you so upset?”

“You don’t understand,” Rose choked out, pulling away from her boyfriend slightly. “you don’t get how all of this has just made me feel like the scared little eighteen year old I was five years ago.”

Rose stalked into her bedroom, tears quickly falling down her face. Brian scrambled after her, and frowned when he saw the instrument on her bed.

“You don’t play-“

“I don’t play _anymore_.” Rose stroked over her guitar, and carefully placed it back into the case before she sat cross-legged on her bed. “I haven’t played since I came here in sixty-eight.”

Brian sat quietly next to her. “How come you stopped?

With a small breath, Rose closed her eyes. “My mother has a certain... _distaste_ for the type of music I liked. She destroyed all my records, my instruments, everything.”

 “Why?” Brian furrowed his eyebrows slightly, and Rose reached other to link their fingers. Her throat was tight with emotion as she continued.

“My boyfriend at the time... he was in a band as well. He was the singer, and he wrote a lot of songs about things my religious Mom didn’t like. And I was young and naive – I thought he was the centre of the universe... until he wasn’t.” Rose chuckled dryly, and shook her head. “I didn’t realise what had happened before it was too late, and he had gone.”

Brian stroked her palm softly, silently encouraging her to continue.

“Mom knew though. Mom knew the day it happened. She said I had ‘ruined myself’ and would never find a husband to take care of me.” Rose looked down at her lap, and bit her lip.  “She took care of it all, of course. It was then I knew I needed to get out.”

She looked over at Brian, whose eyes were barely readable. There was anger behind them she had never seen before, and her stomach flipped slightly. He squeezed her hand, his fingers slightly digging into hers.

“To stop me from being part of that ‘scene’, she took away all of my music, and that’s why I never played again,” Rose’s voice slightly stuttered, and she drew in a breath. “My sister and my dad didn’t do anything to stop her, but I don’t blame them. I can’t even blame _her_ for it – I want to, but I can’t.” She leant forward and pushed her head into her hands, and quietly sobbed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow.”

Brian immediately wrapped his arms around Rose, and pressed her head into his chest. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed his own red eyes closed. “I’m so sorry. I’m so _fucking_ sorry.”

The two of them sat silently for a few moments; Brian stroked his hand down Rose’s hair, and she slowly regained her composure. She pulled away, and wiped the mascara from under her eyes.

“You will never go through that again. Tomorrow, I’ll come with you...” Brian said softly as he tilted her head to look up at him. “I’ll always look after you. Anything that happens – I’ll help you, I’ll support you, I’ll love you-“ he stopped, his words caught in his throat.

Rose’s eyes flashed slightly, and she gave him a watery smile. “Will you promise? To love me?”

“I promise,” Brian ran his knuckles over her chest. “I love you.”

Their lips met in a soft, tearful kiss, and Rose let out a shuddering breath. What felt like a heavy weight was quickly lifted from her shoulders, and she relaxed slightly into Brian’s arms.

“I love you too.”


	9. Stone Cold Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh so I am SO sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've had bad writers block for a while and I've been busy with exams and revision but now... here's the newest chapter! Hope you all enjoy it, comments and kudos are always appreciated! x

Sunlight streamed in from the open window; the curtains softly fluttered in the early morning breeze, and birds sung happily outside. The flat was still, albeit the purring cat on the sofa. Brian stretched out his long legs, one of his hands moving to rub his face sleepily. He let out a soft sigh followed by a yawn, and relaxed into the covers again.

As he opened one eye, the sleeping figure next to him curled closer into his side. Brian smiled softly at Rose, who was tightly pressed against him. Her bare shoulder peeked out of the covers – it was dotted with freckles and impeccably soft. He gently ran his fingertips over her skin, and she shivered slightly. He chuckled, and leant his head back on the pillows.

He closed his eyes again, replaying the previous night in his mind with a small grin on his face. It had started innocently enough, but his late-night confession seemed to have spurred them on; before long they were in bed together, panting and sweaty.

Rose placed her hand on Brian’s chest, her nails lightly digging into his skin. He lifted her palm, and pressed dainty kisses to each of her finger tips. She smiled slightly, and looked sleepily up at him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, dear.” Brian whispered as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She looked up at him, and their lips met quietly. They were lost in each other for a second, before Brian pulled away and rested his head next to hers.

“We have some studio time booked this morning, am I going to have your lyrical genius there?” he laced their fingers together and smiled hopefully, “Or will I have to write my songs myself?

Rose bit her lip slightly, “We're meeting my Mom at one at the Topped-Off Cafe.” She suppressed a yawn, and closed her eyes again. “I suppose I could drop in for a while, even if it’s just to watch Freddie and Roger bicker over bloody everything.”

“It would do you good,” Brian murmured, “bit of a distraction, and then we could walk over together. It’s only a few minutes away from Trident.”

With a hum, Rose nodded and sat up. The duvet pooled around her waist as he stretched, and Brian flushed as his eyes looked over her bare back. He let out a weak chuckle, and Rose looked back at him with a mischievous smirk.

“What time did you say we had to be at the studio?”

Brian shrugged, “they’ve kept me waiting before.”

\-----

A series of loud bangs and shouts came from inside the recording studio as Brian and Rose peeked their heads around the door. Brian let Rose enter in first, and she clutched a coffee cup in her hand as they entered the room. She grinned sheepishly at John.

“Nice for you to finally join us,” he drawled.

The bassist smirked from his seat behind the mixing desk; his feet were propped up on a stool and a cigarette balanced between his lips. Brian moved to flick it out of his mouth as he sat down on the sofa, and watched as Rose looked out of the glass panel that separated the studio from the recording booth.

“Sorry we’re late, Roy, what have we missed?”

The bands producer, a sleepy looking Roy Baker, leant on his elbows behind the desk. “Fred’s been working on this one for about an hour now. ‘E says it’s going to be a hit.” He drawled.

Rose glanced over at Freddie expertly conducting Roger’s drumming, and smiled as she saw the spark of excitement on his face. Behind her, Brian grabbed the papers John was scribbling on.

He read aloud as his eyes scanned the piece. “’ _Don’t you misfire, fill me up, with the desire to carry on..._ ’.” Brian raised an eyebrow as a smirk fluttered over his face. “Are you insinuating something, John?”

“Piss off,” John snatched back the papers and rolled his eyes.”Do you want me to write for this album or not?”

Freddie’s voice suddenly radiated through the studio, causing the three to jump suddenly. “If you prissy queens are done fighting, I’ve got a money maker for you all to listen to.”

Brian stuck his tongue out at John, before he tugged Rose to sit next to him on the couch. Roger entered into the room with a cigarette already lit in his mouth; he collapsed onto the sofa next to them, evidently exhausted from his drumming. Roy gave Fred a thumbs up and started the piano track that had already been laid.

“ _She keeps her Moet a Chandon in her pretty cabinet; ‘let them eat cake’ she said, just like Marie Antoinette...”_

Hearing Freddie sing a cappella was rare, but it was an experience that made the hairs on the back of Brian’s neck stand up. He looked down at Rose, whose eyes were closed as her foot tapped along to the beat of the song, and smiled fondly. They listened intensely, and were silent when Freddie trailed off.

“So,” he challenged, his hand on his hip sassily, “do I sound like shit?”

Brian leant forward, and spoke into the microphone on the soundboard. “It’s brilliant, Fred. I love it.” He licked his lips slightly. “What’s it called?”

“It’s a Jane Doe at the moment,” Freddie brushed his hair out his face as a blush crept up his neck. “It’s more of a thought- about a high class prostitute, you know? Why can’t proper girls be whores?”

The group chuckled and Roger nudged Rose as his eyebrows wiggled suggestively. Rose smacked his arm with an amused smile and rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Rog.” Brian looked back at him and Roger held his hands up in mock surrender

John leant into the microphone, his own expression excited. “Do you think it’s single material?”

Freddie shrugged with a grin on his face. “Could be.”

The boys all beamed excitedly at each other, and Roger clapped his hands together excitedly. “Surely we deserve a break after all this. Drink, Brian - Deaky? You too, Rose.” John agreed heartily, but Rose patted his shoulder.

“Bri and I already have plans,” she admitted, leaning against her boyfriend. “Another time, maybe?” Brian felt the hesitation in her voice, and held her close to him.

Roger nodded before he stood up with another lit cigarette between his lips. “Fred!” he called out, and Freddie entered the studio with his own cloud of smoke. “Coming for a drink?”

“Sorry, darling, I’m meeting Mary for lunch.” He grinned cheekily, his eyes bright. Mary was Freddie’s enamoured girlfriend, a sparkling, pretty girl whom Rose had only met once before the tour. Roger scoffed.

“By ‘lunch’ you mean ‘a shag’.”

“Why can’t it be both, my dear?” Freddie cackled as he draped his jacket around his shoulders, “and by the way, Mary is having a party tonight, and I’ve got you all V.I.P. invites. I expect to see each and every one of you darlings there!”

John rolled his eyes and he popped a cigarette behind his ear for later. “What’s in it for us?”

He winked and tapped his nose. “There might be something special there for you if you _do_ turn up, courtesy of _moi_. _Au revoir_!” And with that, he hurried out of the door with a flourish and a promise to be back within the hour.

John and Roger headed out to the nearest pub, their promise a little less truthful, which just left Brian and Rose after Roy went on his own break.

“We’ve still got half an hour before we have to meet with your mother,” Brian said quietly, and nuzzled his nose into Rose’s neck. He gently pressed his lips against a fading love bite. When his girlfriend didn’t respond, he looked up worriedly. “Rose?”

She took in a breath, and bit her lip. “I’m nervous, Bri.”

Brian could practically see the nerves rolling off her; her foot was tapping frantically against the floor, and he could feel her heart beat when he kissed her neck. He rubbed her sides, trying to comfort her best he could.

“I know you’re anxious, but I’ll be there with you.”

“My mom won’t like you.” Rose said softly, and Brian chuckled, shaking his head.

“Plenty of people don’t like me.” He stroked her hair back from her face, “I’m not worried about your mum, I just want to make sure you get closure over this.”

Rose sucked in a breath, and nodded. “Okay.” Brian pulled her slightly closer to him, and ran his fingers down her shirt. He gently unbuttoned it, a smirk clear on his face.

“Now, we’ve got twenty minutes...”

“You’re a bad influence, Brian May.”

They pressed their lips together, their kiss as passionate as the ones from the night before. Brian’s hands wandered from her waist to her ass, and he gently squeezed it. Rose giggled as he did it, and pulled away. “Come on, my mother’s always early.” She turned to grab her coat, and squealed when she felt a slap on her behind.

“You bloody tease,” Brian chuckled as he retracted his hand, “I’m going to write a song about you one day. I’ll call it something like ‘ _Fat Bottomed Girl_ ’.”

Rose feigned offence as she gasped, “Charming. The newspapers are wrong – you’re the filthy one, not Roger.” Brian raised an eyebrow and laced their fingers together, and he silently smiled. She gestured towards the door, and they walked out together.

The Topped-Off Cafe was only a short walk from Trident Studios, as Brian had said. It was a cosy, washed in the soft glow of the midday sun, and relatively quiet. It was a casual affair, and the woman in the blazer and pinstripe trousers stuck out like a sore thumb.

There was no doubt Portia Grant was Rose’s mother; her hair was long, straight and blonde, and she had Rose’s sloped nose and high cheekbones. But the similarities soon ended there – whereas Rose was warm, inviting, and bubbly, Portia had a distinct steely aura instead. Brian couldn’t help but compare her to his own mother, whom he typically thought of as the loveliest woman in the world.

Rose sucked in a breath next to him, and he squeezed her hand comfortingly. He murmured small words of encouragement, and they walked towards the table. Portia stood up when she noticed them, a small spark of happiness behind her eyes – however, it soon died as she surveyed Rose with an air of distaste. Her nose wrinkled at her daughters straggly ponytail and smudged eyeliner; the t-shirt Rose had borrowed from Brian certainly didn’t help. Portia raised her eyebrows, before she plastered a large smile on her face and pulled Rose into a tight, perfumed hug.

“ _Rosalind_.”

Brian watched curiously as Rose wriggled out of her mother’s grasp, an uncomfortable expression clear on her face.  “Mom- uh-“ she backed away, frowning, and gripped Brian’s hand tightly, “-Hi.” The three of them sat down quietly as Portia observed her daughter.

“Is that all you’ve got to say to your own mother?” Her eyes flicked down to the pairs linked hands, then to Brian. “Who’s this?”

The hand holding his squeezed slightly, and Rose took a breath. “This is Brian, Mom. He’s my boyfriend. Brian, this is my Mom."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Grant." Brian held out his hand, but Portia ignored it.

“’Boyfriend’?” She sniffed, and looked Brian up and down distastefully. “So, _this_ is the reason you packed up and left us then?” She raised her eyebrow as she silently (but obviously) judged Brian’s wild curls.

“No, Mom-“

“I’ve only known Rose for six months,” Brian objected quietly, “she didn’t come here for me.”

Portia scoffed slightly, “then what exactly did you come here for, honey? You always seem to be running after some boy.” Her sickly sweet smile made Brian’s eyebrows narrow. He felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him, and he squeezed Rose’s hand softly.

“I came here because I wanted to,” Rose shifted closer to Brian, “after- after _what happened_ \- after what _you_ did-“

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Portia’s voice was full of disgust as her eyes blazed at the accusation. “I helped you- your stupid decisions almost ruined your life. At least now you have an education, but you’re even ruining that!”

Rose sat up straight as she felt her cheeks flush in anger. “ _’Helped’_ me? You didn’t help me. You- You’re the reason I left.” Her voice shook as she laughed incredulously. “I knew I had to get out when you made me-“

Brian watched as Rose stopped, her voice broke, and tears filled her eyes.

“When I made you _get rid of it_ ,” Portia snapped. “That’s what you mean. I fixed your mistake -for _free_ I might add. Without me, you would be alone with a screaming child because that good-for-nothing singer couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

There was a stunned silence between the three; the elephant in the room had been pointed out, and Brian _finally_ understood.

“You can’t talk to her like that.” Brian said carefully, his voice stony. He glared at the woman before him, all politeness gone from him.

Portia regarded him with little interest, and rolled her eyes. “Not that it’s any place for you to say, but I can talk to my daughter however I like,”

“He’s right, Mom. You can’t.” Rose wiped her eyes, and stared at her mother fiercely. “Dad doesn’t know, does he?”

Her mother’s silence was all the confirmation she needed, and Rose nodded, and she gave a weak, disheartened chuckle.

“I blamed him siding with you, but all these years he did nothing wrong. You knew he’d stop you so instead you let me hate him for _no reason._ ” More tears escaped down Rose’s cheeks as she shook her head, and she sighed. “You can tell Juliet I want to see her when you leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t be absurd, we’re not leaving-”

Rose’s eyes flashed both with tears and anger, and she repeated her words slowly. “When you leave _tomorrow_.”

And with that, she stood up and stalked out of the room – Brian could tell from the slight shake of her shoulders that she was crying, but he still felt pride swell in his chest. As he stood up, Portia cleared her throat.

“You’ll do it to her too,” she said quietly, her hands tightly balled into fists. “You ‘rock stars’, you’re all the same.” Brian's stomach twisted with anger, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling.

“With the greatest respect, Mrs. Grant, you have no idea what you’re on about.” He turned to stare down the woman seated before him. “Rose deserves so much more than what you gave her- she deserves the chance at a _family_ , the freedom to make her own choices. I bloody well hope I can make her as happy as she makes me. God knows she needs it.”

Portia’s eyes were wide, and for once she was rendered almost speechless. Brian cleared his throat, and added as an afterthought to his previous words, “I hope you have a safe flight back to America.”


	10. Save Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the wait, but this chapter is pretty juicy!!! Warning though - clear drug usage in this chapter... and a fight. x Kudos and comments are always appreciated <3

By the time Rose and Brian arrived at Mary’s home in Kensington, the sky had darkened and the party was in full swing. Rose recognised a handful of guests from the university, and even a few from her course. The rest seemed to be a mixture of Mary’s friends, other musicians, and the odd couple of regulars at from their gigs.

Rose still felt an ache in the middle of her chest, and the lump in her throat refused to go away. In all honesty, a party was the last thing she needed, but she didn’t want to disappoint Freddie by not going. What she wanted was a _distraction_ , something she could focus on instead of the pounding in her head.

“Are you sure about this?” Brian had asked when they were getting ready in Rose’s flat. Rose had tried to conceal the blotchy patches on her skin from her tears, but her eyes were still rimmed red. She sighed at herself in the mirror.

“I’m sure,” she said, “I want to go.” She had seen Brian shake his head at her lie, but she ignored it. The two made their way to Mary's almost in silence.

They were immediately greeted by an enthusiastic Freddie who ceremoniously kissed them both. Mary had followed suit and pecked them each on the cheek. They were both obviously drunk.

“Thank you for coming,” Mary beamed when she pulled Rose into a tight hug.

“Of course,” Rose forced a smile onto her face, “we wouldn’t have missed it.”

Freddie tipped the bottle of wine he was holding towards Brian’s lips. “Come on then lovely, drink up. I don’t want anyone to be sober by the end of tonight.”

Brian chuckled, and handed the bottle of wine to Rose, who gratefully took it and took a large gulp. “Got any beers, Fred?” The singer gave a devilish grin, and tugged Brian’s shirt.

“Right this way.”

The night continued with Rose and Brian intertwined on one of the sofas in Mary’s living room. Rose was in no mood to dance, but was content to curl up next to her boyfriend while their friends got more and more debauched. After a while, a group of students pulled Brian away to discuss the new physics topic, leaving Rose on her own with her almost empty bottle.

Before long, another body replaced the one which had left. Rose jumped at the arm that was flung over her shoulder. Roger grinned sloppily down at her; his pupils blown wide, and it was obvious he was buzzed off something that wasn’t alcohol. Rose took the beer that was in his hand and downed it.

“What are you doing here all alone?” Roger gave a forlorn look at his empty drink. “Where’s lover boy?”

“Brian?” Rose chuckled, “he’s gone off with some friends.”

“And left you here?” Roger tutted and furrowed his brow, and then he stared down at her. His eyes faded in and out of focus and Rose looked back at him. “You’re not having any fun, Rosie-Posie,” he concluded in a stern voice.

She smiled and nudged her drunken friend. “I am Rog, I’ve had a bad day, that's all.”

They stayed silent for a moment, until Roger licked his lips and leaned his head closer to hers. “I know a way to make your day better, if you’re up for it.”

“Sorry, Rog...” Rose gave him an uneasy look as she took another sip of her drink, “...Brian and I don’t practice polyamory.”

“Not like _that,_ you idiot. I may be a slut, but I’m _not_ a whore.” He spoke seriously, before the two collapsed into a fit of giggles. Roger wiped his red eyes, before giving her an easy smile. “I meant... a bit of relief from the condition we call _life_.”

Rose was silent for a moment, and then let out a nervous chuckle. “That was profound, Rog.”

He beamed before raising his eyebrows. “Are you game?” He kept nudging her , before she rolled her eyes and nodded. _What the Hell_ , she thought. The alcohol that coursed through her veins didn’t help her judgement.

“Fine - God knows I could use some fun today.”

Roger led her through the throng of people, swiping some beers on the way. He tugged on her arm, his grin large and mischievous. Rose was too busy laughing at him to notice Brian watching her from one of the crowds.

They headed down the stairs to the basement which was full of hazy smoke. There was only a few people in there, but the laughter was loud enough to drown out the music. Rose caught sight of Freddie and a group of men she didn’t recognise sharing a cigarette.

Roger brought Rose to one of the empty sofas, and pulled out a small bag from his pocket. It was full of white powder, and Rose’s eyes widened a fraction.

“Is that-?”

“Nose candy, blow, stash,” he poured a section out onto the small table which wasin front of them. He separated it into two straight lines with his pinkie finger, “Coke.” He licked his digit clean, and then gave an excited shiver.

Rose watched with an air of curiosity as Roger pulled out a twenty pound note from his pocket. He rolled it into a perfect tube between his fingers. “Where did you get it?”

“Being a rock star has its perks, Rosie - your boyfriend just doesn’t use them.” He smirked before holding the money out to her. “You want to go first?”

Rose bit her lip, all a sudden a lot less confident then she was a few moments ago. Roger chuckled and tapped the end of her nose with the rolled up note, before bending over the table.

After a few moments, he flung his head back up, and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. He swallowed, and let out a groan of enjoyment. “Jesus, that’s good.”

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Rose giggled, but shook her head when he offered her the bill. “Is there another way of taking it?”

Roger thought for a second, before looking down at the powder in front of him. “Scoop some in your nail and then sniff it. Then you won’t do a full line but can still... feel the buzz.” He grinned as Rose nodded, and dug some of the powder up onto her finger.

She bit her lip with apprehension, before placing the digit by her nose and taking a deep breath in. Immediately, Rose felt her heart beat quicker as her nostril tickled. She scrunched her nose up tightly at the sensation, and let out a small laugh. Roger watched her with a grin.

“Good?”

“Weird,” she said, “I don’t feel very different.”

“It’ll take a couple of minutes.” He poured himself another line and eagerly inhaled it. Before long, the two were a giggling mess. Their drinks disappeared quicker than before; by that point John had floated down into the basement and shared a joint with Freddie. Rose found herself sandwiched between the group, content with the high running through her blood stream and the alcohol in her hand. She leaned against Roger as he sparked up another cigarette, handing it to her after he took a drag. She put it to her lips and breathed in; she hadn’t smoked in a while, and the way her brain fogged up was almost cathartic.

Rose didn’t even notice Brian come down the stairs, almost completely sober.

-

Brian coughed as the hazy smoke filled his lungs. The room was drk, but could make out the figure of his girlfriend sat with his friends. He set his mouth in a hard line as his heart twisted painfully in his chest.

He’d sobered up as soon as he saw Rose disappear with Roger. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her – he didn’t trust _him._ Brian had known Roger for long enough to assume the worst.

Cursing when he felt the wetness of a spilt beer down his chest, Brian pushed his way through the crowd to the group. When he neared, he saw Rose look up.

“ _Brian.”_

Happiness wove through her words, but her speech was slurred, and she stood up to wrap her arms around his neck. Brian looked down at her in disbelief. He took in the vacant look in her eyes and the reminiscent of white powder on the table in front of them. It didn't take a genius to figure out the situation. He placed his arm around her waist to steady her when she stumbled, and then turned to glare at the blonde boy.

Roger’s tongue was deep down a girl’s throat, and Brian cleared his own as he felt his anger rise through his body. When the drummer didn’t answer, he kicked his shin - hard. “Roger!”

The two jumped apart as Roger groaned in pain, and he looked up at Brian with lidded eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

“What is wrong with you?” Brian growled, his eyes flashing with rage. “Are you out of your _mind_?”

The surrounding groups had gone quiet; Rose hung on Brian’s arm as Freddie and John looked over. The anger in Brian’s voice had not gone unnoticed.

“Whad’ya mean?” Roger rubbed his face with his hand and took another swig from his bottle.

Brian suddenly kicked over the table, ignoring the smash of glasses. “ _You’ve drugged my fucking girlfriend!_ ” Somebody snatched Rose from his arm, and he looked back. Freddie was holding her as he watched the two boys in front of him, his own expression hardened

“I didn’t _drug_ her,” Roger stood up and crossed his arms in defiance. “She wanted to try it.”

“You’re a cock, Roger, you know that?” Brian dragged his eyes away from his girlfriend before he turned back to the drummer.

Roger took a step closer to Brian with a glower, “Watch your mouth.” His fingers curled into fists.

“You could’ve _killed_ her-”

 “It’s just a bit of fucking coke, Brian – we’re rock stars for Christ’s sake.”

“But she’s not!” Brian shoved Roger away from him, and the resulting gasp from the crowd only egged them on further.

Roger stumbled slightly in his drunken state, and snarled. “Do you want to go? Come on then!” The blonde threw a misjudged punch in the direction of Brian’s face, but the height different caused him to miss. The surrounding laughter infuriated Roger further; he sprinted at Brian with a yell and knocked him to the ground. The two struggled on the ground as cheers erupted from the crowd

Freddie kept Rose behind him, albeit still high himself, but made sure to stop the intoxicated girl from being jostled by the rowdy men around them. She clutched at his hands, too drunk to focus on anything but staying awake.

“Get off!” Brian pushed Roger off him, his lip bloody and his cheeks flushed red. Roger leapt up with a bruise forming on one cheekbone and his hair everywhere.

“Is that all you’ve got?!”

“You’re a twat, Roger,” Brian’s voice shook with anger as he spoke, “I won’t let you turn her into _you_.”

The two stared at each other, each of their chests rising and falling as they each took deep breaths. Roger stuffed another cigarette between his lips and lit it. He took a drag, before he glared at his band mate. “Fuck off, Brian.” He blew out his smoke, turned, and pushed his way through the crowd. The rest of the people around them dispersed, and Brian stood as he breathed heavily for a moment.

John made his way towards Freddie, who was still cradling Rose in his arms, and took her gently. “I’ll take her home. I’m headed to Veronica’s anyway.” Freddie nodded and let John wrap his arms around the drunken girl, and watched them walk through the. He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

There was a silence. Brian swallowed, and looked back at Freddie. “Did I overreact?”

“A little,” Freddie said with a shrug. “But you were right to stop him. Who knows how far it would’ve gone.” Brian frowned, his face pale as it contorted into an uncomfortable expression. Freddie puffed out the rest of the smoke. “Maybe you should go home Bri, you don’t look so good. I can handle Roger.”

“But Rose-”

“-Will be _very_ hung-over tomorrow morning. You can beg for forgiveness then.” Freddie gave a wry smile. “Honestly, she won’t remember what happened. Don’t fret, my dear.”

Brian sighed weakly, and gave his friend an appreciative nod. “Thanks Freddie, I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned and headed back up the stairs. Freddie looked at his broken table in dismay, until another bottle was thrust into his hand. As the music grew, the night’s events were quickly forgotten.


	11. Brighton Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm not too happy with this chapter.. I'm just trying to map out where this story is actually going to go. I promise the angst will stop soon! Also, I took some artistic liberty with the timing of Brian's illness... please don't hate me! xxx

Rose had never felt so hungover in her life. Her head was pounding, her throat dry, and her tender stomach swirled with nausea. After a few minutes of throwing up what felt like a river of alcohol, Rose crawled towards her phone. She punched in the familiar number and rested her head on the cool wall, one hand clutched around the phone cord.

It rang for a few minutes; no answer. Rose scratched Lily behind her ear, and pouted. She rang the number again to no avail.

“Brian,” Rose grumbled, “come on, pick up your phone.”

She tried one more time, and eventually heard the click of the phone being picked up. “ _Hello_?” The voice was weak, but unmistakably Brian.

“There you are.” Rose smiled slightly at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. “I woke up alone this morning... care to explain why?”

There was a pause, and Rose heard Brian sigh slightly. “ _I went home last night. You were having fun, and I didn’t feel great_.”

She furrowed her brow at Brian’s scratchy tone. It was clear he was unhappy about something, but her mind was too foggy to know what it was. Rose pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose as she tried to rub away her headache. “Are you coming over today?”

“ _Probably not_ ,” there was a shift, and a soft grunt of pain. “ _Whatever I’ve got might be contagious_.” Rose felt her stomach drop slightly.

“Did I do something last night?” She asked quietly, and a feeling of dread settled over her at the silence that followed her question. “Bri?”

There was a small cough, _“no, you didn’t. I’m just not feeling well. I’ll call you later_.”

Brian put the phone down, and Rose listened to the hum of the landline in surprise. Brian was neversnippy with her, and she didn’t even know _why_. Rose chewed on her lip thoughtfully for a few seconds, before dialling a second number. It was picked up on the second ring.

“ _Hello_?”

“Deaky, if you’re not too hungover, _please_ tell me why Brian’s suddenly got the hump.”

-

Rose gently sipped at her tea, her eyes squinting at the man in front of her through the sun. John puffed out his cigarette, trying to smoke away the pain in his head. The two sat outside the Topped-Off Cafe, and Rose couldn’t shake the thought of her mother out of her head. Her knee jiggled with repressed anxiety; John glanced at her over the top of his sunglasses.

“What’s got you so jumpy?”

“Nothing,” Rose sucked in a breath, before she held out her hand. John handed over the cigarette and she inhaled deeply. The nicotine calmed her for a second, and she breathed it out as she gave it back. “Thanks.”

John chuckled slightly, “I didn’t realise you smoked.”

“I don’t. Not anymore,” she shrugged slightly, “Brian doesn’t like it.” John sipped at his tea with a raised eyebrow.

“Brian doesn’t like much, does he? He made that perfectly clear last night.”

Rose groaned slightly, and rested her head in her hands. “Honestly, John, I can’t remember a thing. Did I do something... bad?” She whispered the last word, and looked up at the bassist with a concerned expression.

John took a final drag of his cigarette and ground it into the ashtray, a small smirk on his face. “Not bad in the way you’re thinking. You stayed faithful, anyway.” Rose peered up at him with a confused expression, and he continued.

“It was Roger’s fault, really. He’d found himself some... _illegal substances_ and somehow persuaded you to join him. Brian found you two in the basement and you were...” John paused, searching for the right word. “Incoherent.”

“Oh God,” Rose muttered into her hands, “why am I such an idiot? Who left me alone with Roger?”

He shrugged, “Brian did.”

Rose peeked through her hands, and then sighed. John gently pushed another rolled cigarette towards her. She placed it between her lips and let him light it. “I guess I really fucked things up.”

John shook his head – he placed his hand on hers, and squeezed it slightly. “Trust me, Brian’s being a drama queen, he’ll get over this.” He sipped at the remains of his tea, and stood up. He stretched his arms out and popped his knuckles. Rose made a face at the sound.

“We’ve got some studio time booked, you’re welcome to come along,” he pondered for a moment. “I don’t know if anybody else will be there but I’m going to put some bass down for _Misfire_.” He smiled at the name of his debut song, and nodded his head in the direction of the studio.

Rose rubbed her forehead and nodded. “I can talk to Roger...” she pondered a moment. “If he turns up.” The two paid for their tea, and walked the short journey through the street. The fresh air and hot tea seemed to subdue Rose’s headache, and she could finally look up at the sun breaking through the clouds without wincing.

They arrived at the studio; Roy nodded at them, but was more focused on his paper than anything else. John and Rose headed straight for their allocated booth, and he immediately pulled his bass from the case. He leant against one of the speakers and began to tune it.

During the few minutes of silence, interrupted by the occasional hum of the bass, Rose wandered over to the guitars lined by the wall. She ran her fingers over them, before pulling out a sleek Fender Stratocaster. Rose strummed it, and smiled slightly. It felt freeing.

“I didn’t realise you could play,” John commented, looking over at her from his own guitar. Rose smiled shyly from where she was tuning the instrument.

“A little.” She plugged the guitar into the nearest amp and picked at it experimentally. “It’s a long story.”

John grinned. “Well, maybe we’ll have you playing some tracks seeing as our _actual_ guitarist couldn’t be bothered to turn up.”

Rose laughed slightly, but felt a little twist in her heart at the mention of her boyfriend. She thought back to their earlier phone call, and rubbed her forehead. Before she could mellow over the hurtful feeling, the jangling of jewellery signalled the arrival of their lead singer.

“Good afternoon, my darlings!” Freddie cried with a grin and a wave of his hands; his eyes were covered with a pair of dark sunglasses, but his extravagant purple jumpsuit and swirled blazer showed no hints of a hangover. Both Rose and John winced at his loud voice, and he chuckled. “A sore head is a sign of a good night.”

Freddie swooped over to the two, pressing chaste kisses to their foreheads. He squeezed Rose slightly. “I’m surprised to see you awake and living, dear.”

“I am feeling a little fragile.” Rose admitted with a shrug, and Freddie chuckled.

He looked down at the guitar in Rose’s hands with a raised eyebrow. “Has Bri been teaching you?”

“I already play.” Rose proudly declared. Freddie smirked, and his eyes flashed mischievously.

“Play something.”

Rose frowned slightly, “what?”

Freddie popped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. He exhaled the smoke as he nodded towards the guitar in Rose’s hands. “Play something, dear.”

He leant against an amp with an air of expectancy. John looked up, his own eyebrow raised. Rose bit her lip, bristling with nerves, before she pressed her fingers to the frets. She let out a slow breath. As the air escaped her lungs, her digits began to move like clockwork. It had been years since she played the piece, and even if she did miss a few notes, it felt like home.

Rose opened her eyes when she finished, and let her hands fall from the instrument. At the silence that met her, she hastily put the instrument down. “It’s just a hobby, it’s not like I’m a professional or anything, and you’re all so used to Brian-”

Freddie quickly placed his hands on hers to stall his movements, his cigarette hanging between his lips. “Quieten down, lovey,” he flashed a sparkling grin. “That was bloody brilliant.”

Rose’s face flushed, and she looked over at John. “Really?” she asked, the knot in her stomach loosening slightly

“Really.” Freddie removed his cigarette from his lips to give her a smoky kiss on the forehead, before John turned to him with a cough.

“Right, Fred, with this track-”

Before he could say anything more, a loud crash came from the door. Roger came stumbling through, his face red and his hair drenched with sweat. He doubled over as he attempted to catch his breath, his eyes clenched.

“Rog?” Rose asked, surprise evident in her tone. Roger _never_ ran.

The blonde boy wheezed for a second, his smoker’s lungs evidently having caught up with him. He looked up at his band mates as he wiped the sweat off his face.

“Brian – flat – ran – fast – ill – hospital?” he choked out, and then he took a deep breath. He leant against the wall and flicked his hair out of his eyes, his expression panicked. “Help!”

John, Freddie, and Rose looked dumbfounded, each staring at Roger with their mouths half open. “Say that again – slowly.” John said slowly. His hand had gone straight to Rose’s, and he felt her shaking underneath him.

Roger breathed in and out slowly, before staring over at them. “Brian’s really ill, he’s bloody well been sick all over my bed,” his face turned to one of worry. “He’s burning up and has turned yellow – and I think he needs to go to a doctor.”

“And you _left_ him?” Rose’s own skin had gone a sickly pale, “ _Roger_!”

“I didn’t know what to do so I just ran here!”

Freddie furrowed his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you drive?” He asked in concern.

“Because I drank a shitload last night and I’m definitely still drunk.”

A hundred thoughts were running through her head, and she felt her head pound painfully. _Brian was hurt. Brian was sick. Brian needed her._ She looked up at John and gripped his wrist. “We need to go to him. Please-”

John nodded. “Let’s get a taxi.”

As the four of them clambered into the back of the first Taxi they found, Rose couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering to the worst. Freddie practically tossed his purse in the drivers face to get him to drive faster, but it felt like their car was the slowest on the road.

They all tumbled out as soon as the taxi slowed in front of their flat; John spluttered out an apology when Roger called their driver a wanker and Freddie demanded a refund, but Rose was already scrambling through their front door and up the stairs.

“Brian? _Brian_!”

She burst into his bedroom and stopped short. Led in bed, sweat covering his forehead, twitching slightly in his fitful sleep, was Brian. His skin had a yellow tinge, and his lips were cracked and dry. His already slim frame looked even skinnier in his baggy t-shirt and shorts. Rose’s stomach dropped as she took in her boyfriend, and she inched tentatively to the bed.

“Bri?”

He cracked one eye open, his teeth chattering as he tried to focus on her.

“Rose?”


	12. Too Much Love Will Kill You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaay my exams are finally over! Time to WRITE, WRITE, WRITE!

“Oh gosh, Brian,” Rose knelt by his bed, carefully avoiding the bucket full of sick next to her. “This isn’t just a hangover, is it?”

Brian shook his head miserably. He closed his eyes, and uttered in a croaky voice. “Roger’s a prick.”

Rose delicately brushed his hair from his face, and smiled sympathetically. She frowned when she saw his split lip, but her focus switched when she felt his forehead – he was clammy underneath her fingers, his skin feverish and hot.

“Bri, have you taken anything?” she asked softly. Brian scowled up at her.

“Actually, I’m not into doing drugs, unlike _some_ people in this band.”

Rose sighed; she couldn’t tell if Brian was being unceremoniously bitchy because he was pissed at her, he felt ill, or both. “Don’t be a cock, Brian. I meant tablets. Have you had any paracetamol?”

Brian looked down with a pout. “I took some about an hour ago.” He winced slightly as he moved to take a drink of his water. Rose chewed thoughtfully on her lip.

Suddenly, the other three boys burst into his bedroom, having finally sorted out the kerfuffle with the taxi driver. John and Freddie looked over heir band mate with concern.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” Freddie muttered quietly. “We’re already over schedule for this album.”

“Your best friend is lying sick in bed and all you can worry about is your _album_?” Rose gaped at Freddie in disbelief, who held his hands up in surrender. “Are you joking?”

John placed his hand on Rose’s shoulder, and then scrunched his nose up at the bucket on the floor. He picked it up and shoved it into Freddie’s hands. “Make yourself useful and deal with this, Fred.”

“What?” Freddie held the bucket away from him, is face having immediately turned green. “ _Me_?”

“Freddie, just fucking do it.” Brian grumbled into his pillow, and Freddie pouted and wandered off to the bathroom.

Rose moved so she was sat on the bed and pushed her hand carefully through Brian’s matted curls in an attempt to untangle them. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closed. He shook slightly under his covers, and his teeth chattered as he shivered.

“What are we going to do?” Roger asked quietly from where he had been sat, “Does he need to go to hospital?”

“No hospital!” Brian groaned. Rose shook her head.

“Brian, you need to,” she countered, “If tablets aren’t working, you need to get something stronger.

Brian peeked up from his pillow, scowling.”No.”

“He’s a grumpy bastard at the best of times,” Freddie returned with a clean bucket and placed it back next to the bed. Rose smiled gratefully at him. “I did that for you, Rose. I got Brian’s sick on my jacket _for you_.”

Rose laughed a little at her friend’s theatrics, and reached to squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Freddie. I am eternally grateful to you.” She looked back to her boyfriend, who promptly threw back up in the bucket. She held his sweaty curls back as she rubbed his shoulders.

“I just bloody washed that...”

“Roger, Freddie, John, can you get him some fresh clothes?” Rose gave the boys a pointed look when they started to complain, and they each scrambled out of the room. She gently helped Brian sit up, and moved her hand to his. “Bri, you have to go see a doctor.”

“Rose, I’m fi-”

“Brian Harold May, if you say ‘fine’ I will upturn that bucket of sick all over your head.” Brian looked up at her with big doe eyes, and sighed. Rose squeezed his hand. “Please, I just want you to feel better. The boys want you to feel better.”

He frowned, and Rose offered him his glass of water, which he sipped at gingerly. His skin was still tinged with yellow, and sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip, and he rubbed his eyes. “Freddie’s right,” he whispered softly. “We _are_ behind on the album, and I can’t afford to fall behind in my classes. If I don’t graduate now, and the band takes off-“ his voice cracked slightly, and he fell silent.

Rose rubbed his hand softly, “then you don’t graduate at all. I understand.” She sighed slightly. “But it’s not good for you Brian, these late nights in the studio, and then all the studying, on top of your job...”

“Last night probably didn’t help either,” he said dryly. Rose bit her lip slightly.

“Well, we can talk about that another time.”

Brian smiled weakly, and tightened his hand in hers. “Come on,” she whispered, “if you don’t see a doctor, at least let me help you leave this room and get some nutrients into you.” He nodded slightly, and allowed her to help him up. He was shaky, but at least his legs could hold himself up. Rose led him to the dining table where the other three had sat themselves, and placed him carefully on one of the chairs. He folded his long legs up and rested his chin on his knees.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea, do you think you could stomach that?”

He nodded weakly. The other three boys grinned sheepishly at her, and she begrudgingly pulled out five mismatched teacups from one of their over-stocked cupboards. A chorus of “thank you Rose” sounded afterwards, and Rose smiled in amusement.

Soon, talk turned from Brian’s illness to the party the night before. As she stirred the sugar into Freddie’s special teddy-bear mug, Rose tensed slightly when Roger started nattering.

“I mean, everything was going swimmingly until Brian decided to sock me in the face.”

 “You drugged my girlfriend,” Brian grumbled; his eyes finding Roger’s in a glare. Roger rolled his own.

“I didn’t drug her, for the hundredth time. We were just having a bit of fun.” He shrugged, “weren’t we, Rose?”

Passing each boy their tea, Rose stayed silent. John and Freddie thanked her, but Roger raised an expectant eyebrow. Brian stewed quietly.

“Your boyfriend here is accusing me of being a creep. _Please_ defend me.”

Rose took her own cup and sat back down, gently blowing over the top of it before taking a tentative sip. “I would defend you if I had any bloody idea of what happened last night.” Her hand moved from her own lap to Brian’s, and their fingers intertwined. She was happy to see his cheeks were turning back to their normal pink colour.

“Right,” Roger smacked his hands on the table, making John jump and spill some tea onto his lap. “Sorry, Deaky- but I can give you a second by second recap of last night. You and Brian came to the party after all of us and you were in a fucking foul mood for some reason or another. Brian left you to go and chat physics, and I’d thought I’d cheer you up with a bit of coke because I’m nice.”

He held his hands up in surrender when Brian made an angry noise at the back of his throat. John and Freddie sipped at their teas quietly, eyes darting from either end of the table like a tennis match.

“In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t one of my best ideas, but you said _yes_!” Roger looked over at Rose with a pout. “It wasn’t me trying to be malicious; I was just trying to help you have fun.”

“Oh fuck off,” Brian croaked, the fury in his voice clear. “You we’re trying to get into her pants. If I hadn’t found her when I did-”

“She was _fine-_ ”

“She was _incoherent-_ ”

Rose gripped her mug tightly in her hands and slammed it onto the table, stunning the two boys into silence.

“She is sitting _right here_!”

The four looked at her in surprise, their mouths forming ‘o’s at her sudden outburst. She breathed heavily through her nose, and tried to calm herself down, and then turned to Freddie. “Fred, you’re an honest man,” she began, a forced smile on her lips. Freddie looked at her in panic. “What happened last night?”

Freddie stuttered slightly, his tea halfway to his mouth. “I mean- what Roger said was technically true, darling. I may have seen you say yes, and you just seemed a bit merry...” he trailed off when he saw Brian’s glare, and looked down at his tea.

An uneasy, tense silence fell over the table, aside from the clinking of china against china. Rose looked back over at her boyfriend, who’s skin had returned to its previously pale state.

“Fuck this,” Brian grumbled after a few moments, pushing his tea away from him. “I’m going back to bed.”

He stood up, slightly shaky, and wobbled back to his room. He slammed his door after him.

“Well,” John started, finishing off the last of his tea, “that went as well as-”

A sudden loud _thump_ interrupted his sentence, along with the unmistakable clang of a guitar falling over. The foursome looked in the direction of Brian’s room, shocked to stillness; Freddie’s cup was still halfway to his lips.

Roger was the first one to snap out of it- he scrambled out of his seat, and into Brian’s room. John followed him quickly, and Rose could hear their worried voices rising.

“Bri? _Brian_!”

Her heart was in her throat; she could feel the anxiety twisting around it so tightly it felt like it couldn’t pump. But at the same time, it was going so fast she was struggling to breathe – Freddie grabbed her by the shoulders, having abandoned his drink, and forced her to look up at him.

“Rose, breathe, you’re no help to Brian if you faint,” he pushed her hair behind her ears, “come on darling, follow me now. In, out... in, out...”

Just as she felt like her heart was returning back to normal, John and Roger struggled back into the kitchen; their arms were slung around Brian, whose head lolled back, eyes half shut.

“He’s collapsed,” John panted, “now he _really_ needs to go to hospital.”

\-----------

Hepatitis – Brian had somehow contracted a deadly blood disease from a few unsanitary pieces of equipment, used at his doctor’s check up before Queen’s first tour. It seemed almost laughable, but that was the last thing on Rose’s mind.

She was curled up in the cold, hard chair next to Brian’s hospital bed, one hand in his and the other resting against her cheek. Wires ran in and out of his arms, feeding him his fluids and antibiotics. His doctor had ordered a week in the hospital, and then several weeks of bed rest. Rose could tell that the loss of their guitarist was a low blow to Queen’s morale.

Brian cracked open one eye, peeking up at Rose, who was lost in thought. He stayed quiet for a moment and just watched her, smiling despite the ache in his body. He squeezed her hand slightly, and she looked down with him with a comforting expression.

“Hi, darling.” She whispered, moving her other hand to stroke his hair out of his face. “How are you feeling?”

“’Been better,” he murmured. He captured her fingers in his, and gently pressed a kiss to her palm. “Where are the boys?”

Rose shifted slightly so she was closer to him, intertwining their hands tighter. “Fred’s gone to Mary’s, and Rog and John went home. Everyone’s still a bit fragile from last night, and I think today’s... events have wiped them out.”

He frowned slightly, and took a long look at her face. He noticed the dark circles in her eyes and the worry in her expression. He reached up, trying to smooth away the purple on her skin with his thumbs. “Why haven’t you gone home?”

“What, and leave you here?” Rose chuckled slightly. “Don’t be daft.”

They were quiet for a few moments, both listening to the beep of Brian’s heart monitor, just enjoying each other’s company for once. After a few seconds, Brian swallowed.

“I’m sorry about how I reacted,” he murmured. “I was jealous, and an idiot. You didn’t deserve that.”

Rose shushed him, brushing her hand through his hair soothingly. “You were just angry and ill. I made some stupid decisions.”

“Still, I was a prick.” He looked up at her with a small pout. “Roger really didn’t try anything, did he?” Rose shook her head with a small smile, and Brian sighed. “I’ll say sorry to him too.”

“You look after yourself first, okay?” Rose gently leaned over and kissed his forehead, worry still swirling around in her stomach. “We need you to get better.”

“I know.” He whispered, his voice cracking. “I know.”


	13. Now I'm Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These poor boys just cannot catch a break, can they? Sorry it's a bit short, my lovelies, but I hope you enjoy!

The months following Brian’s collapse were hard.

Not just for Rose, but for the band as well. They were weeks behind schedule for their latest album, _Sheer Heart Attack_ , and their lead guitarist not being there definitely put a strain on the recording sessions.

The subsequent hold on the album had definitely caused an increase in tension between the three boys and Rose. Freddie was snappier than usual, Roger had developed an interesting habit of day drinking, and John would often disappear for hours on end, skipping studio time all together. This was all piled on Rose, who still couldn’t see how any album could be more important than Brian’s health. To be fair, she was biased.

She spent most of her time by Brian’s bedside; she barely left the hospital albeit to check on Lily and shower. When Brian got discharged, Rose all but moved into the boys flat to take care of him. Her constant presence definitely changed the boyish dynamic of the house, and thus, the group were under pressure.

December was nearing and the final, _final_ deadline for _Sheer Heart Attack_ was right around the corner. The boys were stressed; their management was on their back about having all the tracks finished in time, and their money was running out _quickly_. Soon, the boys wouldn’t be able to afford any more tape, which would equal no album.

A shivery morning greeted the group, and the three boys were, finally, all in the studio at the same time. Rose pushed her way through the doors, five steaming coffee cups balanced carefully in her hands. Her teeth chattered as she headed into the mixing booth, placing one of the paper cups in front of Roy. He smiled tiredly, giving her a thumbs up from where he was listening to their latest recording.

Rose looked out through the glass, and sighed; the boys were arguing again. Freddie had his hands on his hips with a sour look on his face; John was clearly exasperated as he spoke to Freddie, his hair frizzy from the amount of times he’d tugged at it. Roger’s eyes were hidden behind his dark glasses, but the bottle in his hand and the way he was gently swaying proved his drunkenness. Rose poked her heard through the door to the recording room, and caught the tail end of their quarrel.

“ _Misfire_ is the only song we have fully recorded, mixed, and produced, Fred. It makes _no_ sense for it not to be the single.”

“It makes _all_ the sense, darling. Your little song about shooting your load too early is not single material, and that’s a fact.”

John groaned in annoyance. “It’s not about what single material is or isn’t, it’s about just getting one fucking out there.”

“No,” Freddie stamped his foot, looking very much like a stroppy child not getting his way, “I wrote my song in one night and it’s _perfect_. That’s the single.”

“ _Killer Queen_ isn’t even finished Freddie,” Roger grumbled from where he was stood, “Brian still needs to do his recordings, and we have no idea when he will be well enough to do them.”

Freddie threw his arms up in the air, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t understand. This song has _something_ about it; I can feel it all the way to my toenails. This is our chance! We have to seize it.”

The other two grumbled quietly in discontent, and Rose took that opportunity to slip into the room. The boys all smiled at her entrance, and perked up when they saw the coffee.

“Good morning, you three.” She said softly, and they murmured in response as she started to pass around the coffees. “Black for Freddie. Milk and two sugars for John. Finally... milk and one and three-sevenths sugars for Rog.”

The drummer chuckled at his order, and took the coffee from her gratefully. “Thank you, dear.”

Rose smiled slightly, sipping at her own drink as she settled on one of the speakers next to John. “Where are we at today?” She asked him curiously.

“We need a single by next week, and _somebody_ won’t use our only completed song.”

“It’s not the one,” Freddie pouted defiantly. “Tell them, Rosie.”

She put her hands up in a signal of mock surrender, and shook her head. “Don’t get me involved in band politics, I’m just a simple groupie.” John snorted slightly, giving her a light push. “Although, my favourite member is currently an invalid.”

Freddie pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and puffed on it anxiously. The four were silent for a few moments, and Rose leant over in Roger’s direction.

“How much has to be done on Killer Queen until its single ready?”

Roger took a gulp of his coffee, and then one from his bottle which was next to him. “Brian needs to record his guitar overdubs, his solos, _and_ his harmonies. Then, it needs to be produced and mixed. If he was here, it would be done within the week. But...” He shrugged, before finishing off his second alcoholic drink of the morning.

Sitting up slightly, Rose looked at the guitars lined up against the wall with an air of curiosity. Her mind raced as she sipped at her coffee. She cleared her throat, and the three boys looked at her expectantly.

“If it makes things easier for you three... I could do some overdubs if you wanted.”

The blank stares that met her was almost embarrassing, and Rose hastily began to explain herself. “I – I mean, I’ve heard Brian practice so much I could recite most of the songs in my sleep. And I’d only do a couple of bars, for the verses or chorus, not any solos. I just thought, I mean, maybe it would help you get the single finished in time.”

Suddenly, Freddie ran to her and gave her two smacking kisses on the cheek. “Rosie, you are a _genius_!” He spun her around with a gleeful expression on his face, and turned to the others with his arms wrapped around her. “Here I was considering stand in guitarists when we have our very own Jimi right here.”

Rose blushed a deep red, squirming slightly in embarrassment, “I’m not that good-”

“Nonsense, darling, you’re perfect.”

The rest of the studio session went almost well. Roger, albeit a bit shaky with his timing, managed to record an impressive drum intro to one of Brian’s songs Rose had salvaged from his notes he’d written in hospital. John had more or less finished laying the bass tracks to the majority of the songs, and had even recorded on acoustic for Roger’s song, _Tenemunt Funster_. There were still noticeable gaps in the record, but it soon began to actually sound like an album.

Having saddled the shiny Fender Stratocaster that had peaked her interest earlier, Rose had felt freeing being able to play again. Her first few takes were a little rusty, but she soon got back into the swing of things. Learning to play in a recording studio was interesting – she jumped a little at the sound of John’s voice over her headphones, and she could tell why the boys so frequently got frustrated at replaying the same four chords. Nevertheless, it was the most fun she’d had in a while.

“That was brilliant,” John gushed into his microphone as Rose finished the second verse of _Killer Queen_ , “did you have lessons?”

“A few, back in the States.” Rose bit her lip “They weren’t official lessons – just a boy with a shitty guitar teaching me a few things.”

Freddie poked his tongue into his cheek, smirking, “well, thank God for that boy.” 

The evening soon caught up to them, and the four decided to call it a day. As Rose was slotting her guitar back into its stand and packing her bag up, a couple of hushed voices grabbed her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see Freddie and Roy having what looked like a tense, uncomfortable conversation. Freddie’s normally confident expression had dwindled to one of worry, and it caused an uneasy feeling in her stomach. If she was quiet enough, she could hear their words.

“You’re saying we only have enough money for one more session?” Freddie’s throat had clearly tightened, as his voice was tight. “We’re nowhere near finished.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mercury, sir,” Roy shrugged, “you can’t use the studio without any cash.”

Freddie nodded, chewing his cheek in thought. “Alright, thank you.” Roy ambled away, leaving the singer alone. Roger glanced over at him, concern behind his dark glasses.

“You alright, Fred?”

“I’ve never been better, dear.” Freddie pursed his lips, before bidding the group farewell and marching out of the studio, clearly headed to Mary’s. John and Roger followed soon after, muttering about going for a drink to celebrate their newfound vigour. They invited Rose, but she politely declined. She’d rather see Brian.

The walk to his flat was cold – the London crowds were dispersing due to the puddles that had formed on the ground throughout the day. Rose hummed the melody from _Flick of the Wrist_ under her breath, stopping to buy some soup (the only thing Brian could keep down) on the way. She entered the boys flat and hung her coat up on the peg she’d commandeered for herself, before placing her shopping in the kitchen and heading into Brian’s room.

He had slowly perked up a bit; talking more and becoming more affectionate with Rose again – demanding cuddles in the evening and a few sneaked kisses, but he was far from being out of the woods. His doctor had prescribed a month of antibiotics to be taken three times a day, and he was still unable to play, which had put a dampener on his mood.

Rose popped her head round his bedroom door, and smiled slightly at the sight of her boyfriend curled up in his bed. He snored softly with a half read physics book open next to him. She watched him affectionately for a second, happy that he seemed to be getting better, before she headed back into the front room.

The conversation she had heard between Freddie and Roy was stuck in her head; she couldn’t shake the image of Freddie’s distressed expression, or the guilt in Roy’s words. The boys really were stuck between a rock and a hard place – the rock being their lack of money, and the hard place sleeping soundly in the room two doors down.

She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, trying her hardest to conjure up an idea to help the band. There was only one solution that seemed feasible, but it would cost Rose more than money. She looked in the direction of Brian’s bedroom, and sighed softly. Rose knew it would break him if he was the reason the band lost their record deal, even if it wasn’t his fault, and she couldn’t handle a Brian whose dreams had been completely shattered. She groaned quietly. _She’d have to bite the bullet._

The phone number Rose punched into their keypad was horribly familiar, and the dial tone sent shivers down her spine with apprehension. She nervously looked around, dreading Brian waking up or the boys stumbling through the door, when the phone was picked up.

“ _Hello?”_

“Mother,” Rose breathed around the lump in her throat, “I need a favour.”


	14. Dead on Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't explain myself... sorry for the wait guys. I hope you all enjoy this one. Don't hate me too much.. :) Also super sorry it's so short, the next one will be longer, I promise !

“ _Darling, why on Earth would I do you a favour?_ ” Portia’s deep, American accent was clear through Rose’s crackly phone, and it caused an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced back at Brian’s bedroom; through his cracked open door she saw him snore a little, then roll over in his bed.

Rose couldn’t help but smile lovingly, but kept her voice low. “I understand why you wouldn’t, but this is different. I need to borrow some money.”

A sniff sounded on the other end of the line, and Rose could practically see her mother, with her pursed lips and disgusted expression. “ _If this has anything to do with that rock star ‘boyfriend’ of yours, you can think again_ -“

“Please. Mom!” Rose shot another worried look at Brian’s door as her voice rose an octave. “I’ll do anything. Just a couple of hundred – please.”

There was a silence for a few moments, and Rose’s voice turned uncharacteristically begging. “ _Please_.”

“ _Okay, I’ll do it_ ,” there was a mischievous edge to her voice, and a new, cutting tone to her words. “ _But I expect something in return_.”

“I’ll pay back all of it, I swear-“

“ _I want you to come back to America_.”

It felt like the drop on a roller coaster. Rose’s stomach sunk down to her feet, and a sense of dread settled over her like a dark cloud. She gaped silently for a moment, her words caught tight in her throat. “Wh- What?”

“ _You can have a month. I’ll transfer you the money, you get it to your greasy band boyfriends, and then you come home.”_

“I can’t just leave – Brian-“

“ _It’s non-negotiable, Rosalind!”_ Portia’s voice turned harsh, and Rose flinched. A few tears escaped over her cheeks, and her lip wobbled slightly. “ _I don’t care what you have to say to him, or them, but if you want this money, you do what I want.”_

Rose couldn’t help the crack in her voice, and she squeezed her eyes closed as she silently cried. “Okay.”

“ _Good.”_ The sickly-sweet tone returned to her Mothers tone. “ _I can’t wait to see you, Rosie!”_

“Yeah,” Rose murmured softly, “can’t wait to see you too.”

The dial tone rang loud and clear, and Rose gently placed the phone back. A wave of emotion hit her; she rested her forehead on the wall next to the telephone, and let out a sob. She covered her mouth as she cried, to make sure she didn’t wake Brian with her whimpers. Crying silently, Rose squeezed her eyes shut as her cheeks became wet with tears. She felt the familiar brush of fur against her legs, and a questioning meow. She looked down at Lily, who stared back up at her with her big, glassy eyes. Rose crouched down and swiped her hand over her head – she took in a shuddering breath as her cats purrs calmed her.

Rose stood back up as she glanced back in Brian’s direction. He stirred slightly, and Rose could tell he was waking up. She wiped her eyes – he would only ask questions, and Rose didn’t have the energy to answer.

Brian was certainly chirpier. He smiled sleepily when Rose climbed into the bed next to him, and immediately puckered his lips for a kiss. He sighed when she happily obliged.

“Were you on the phone?” Brian’s voice was crackly, and he shifted so his head was in her lap. He hummed contently when Rose’s fingers automatically stroked through his hair.

“No, just talking to the cat. How are you feeling?”

He took her other hand in his, and then kissed her palm gently. “Better today. I can actually string some lyrics together – look!” He excitedly grabbed his notebook and shoved it into her hands. Rose’s eyes scanned the crinkled pages scribbled with lyrics and music notes, and felt her heart tighten. “I’ll be back in the studio soon.”

“Hm,” Rose gently ran her fingers through his curls, savouring the silky texture of them. “Your doctor’s prescribed at least another month in bed.”

“Bollocks to that, we need to finish this album.” He smiled softly up at her. Brian reached up and brushed against her cheek, “are you inputting any of your musical expertise?”

She let out a soft breath of laughter. “I guess. Just a few riffs.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” he murmured. Rose fought the urge to burst into tears, her mother’s demands circled her head, and having to act like everything was alright was already draining her. Brian stared up at her, and smiled – his eyes were full of

The two sat in silence for a while. Rose was sure Brian had fallen back to sleep, and she stayed slumped against the bed frame. She looked around at his room and paused at the framed Polaroid of the two of them that Freddie had drunkenly taken one Christmas Eve in his and Roger’s stall – Rose smiled slightly at the memory. Brian’s Queen I and II records were propped up by the side of his bed, along with his Red Special. The chair in the corner of the room lazily held one of Roger’s fur coats; the item of clothing caused a lump to seat itself quite comfortably in the middle of Rose’s throat, and it didn’t seem to want to move.

The thought of having to leave this life, having to leave _Brian_ , was too hard to even picture, but she had to. Queen needed this opportunity- she could feel it in her bones. Something told her that in a few years there wouldn’t be a soul on Earth that didn’t know their names. If she had to sacrifice what she had for them, then so be it.

\--

It was Sunday, and Brian, Freddie, Roger, and John were happily crowded into Rose’s flat. As their own kitchen was more of a kitchenette with a barely functioning oven, the boys had taken it upon themselves to squeeze into Roger’s Mini and drive over to Rose’s with all the ingredients of a roast dinner. As Brian’s doctor had prescribed him ‘lots of hearty, good food’, their meals had stopped being quick sandwiches and cups of tea, instead having been replaced with stews, vegetable pies, and lots of potatoes.

Unfortunately, this meant the cooking was left to John and Rose, as Freddie refused to get his nails dirty and Roger could barely boil an egg. Nevertheless, Rose thought it was nice; she was always at her happiest with the boys. Mary, Veronica, and Roger’s newest girlfriend, Josephine, had popped round as well, and suddenly, Rose and John were cooking a whole dinner for several people, and a cat.

“We’re having a real chicken, right?” Roger leant against the kitchen surface as Rose delicately chopped carrots next to him. The buzz of laughter and chat sounded behind them, muffled by the sounds of The Beatles in the background. Rose looked up at the blonde boy with a raised eyebrow.

“You do know Brian’s been a vegetarian since before he could even eat,” she laughed as Roger pouted, bringing his beer to his lips, “No, we’re having nut roast.”

Roger furrowed his brow, and grimaced in disgust, “what the fuck is that.”

“It’s an American delicacy,” Rose chuckled at his distraught expression, “You’ll like it, I promise.” The drummer wrinkled his nose, before heading back to the kitchen table.

The three girls were talking animatedly about Mary’s new job at Biba, while Roger had began to natter on to Brian about some twat he’d seen badmouthing their album at the record stall. John peeled potatoes lazily as he hummed along to the music. It was peaceful. Rose’s stomach twitched uncomfortably.

Freddie suddenly popped his head around the kitchen door, his face unreadable. “Rosie, darling, I think your toilet may be blocked. Would you be a dear and come check it out?”

“I can look-“ Brian began to stand up, but Rose hushed him immediately.

“No, Bri. I’ll go,” she frowned slightly – her toilet had been fine earlier. She followed Freddie out into the hallway of her flat. He made a show of ensuring the door was shut behind him, before turning back to Rose. She looked down, and felt her heart drop when she saw the envelope in his hands. The envelope which currently held one thousand British sterling - enough for Queen to finish their album.

Freddie raised his eyebrow at Rose’s ashen face, and held the envelope towards her. “Care to explain this?”

She’d hidden it as carefully as she could- inside the pocket of a jacket neither her nor Brian wore which hung inside his wardrobe. Rose inwardly groaned- she’d forgotten about Freddie’s habit of rifling through their clothes when nobody was looking.

“It’s- it’s just-”

“Darling, there’s a _grand_ in this envelope. Where on Earth did you get it?” he squinted his eyes slightly, “you haven’t been _selling yourself_ , have you? We do have a National Health Service, dear.”

Rose gave him a light shove, scoffing. “I haven’t been doing anything of the sort, Freddie. My father just gave me some money, that’s all – some of my inheritance.” The lie slipped easily through her teeth, but it didn’t taste pleasant on her tongue.

The singer looked at her suspiciously. Rose sighed, before stepping closer to him and lowering her voice. “I was going to ask you later, but... I want you to have it.”

There was a silence, before Freddie blinked in confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I’ve had this envelope just sitting around for ages... and I heard your and Roy’s conversation the other week... about not having enough money to afford studio sessions.” Rose smiled sheepishly, but her heart was thumping hard. “I don’t need this money – you do.”

“Rose, we-”

“Just take it, Freddie,” Rose swallowed, and silently cursed when tears sprang to her eyes. “But don’t tell the others, please.” She pushed his outstretched hand back to his body.

Freddie looked down at the wad of cash in his hand, and sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?” He locked eyes with the smaller girl in front of him – he could tell when somebody was lying to him, and it made an uncomfortable nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m sure.” Rose smiled slightly, and tried to blink back her tears. “Promise me you’ll finish the album soon. This one’s going to be big, I can feel it.”

With a nod, Freddie reached forwards to Rose and tugged her into a tight hug. He squeezed her close to him; so much so she could feel the metal studs of his belt pressing into her waist.

“Thank you,” he uttered, his voice slightly hoarse, “thank you.”

The two stayed like that for a second, before a call sounded from the kitchen.

“Rose, your nuts are burning!”


	15. Dragon Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is almost over... I think there will be possibly two or three more chapters! I'm not sure if I'm going to finish it on a happy ending or not... who knows. Hope you enjoy!

Rose spent the next three weeks in a constant state of anxiety. Her mother’s words swam around her mind – she had only two days left until she was expected back. Two days. A measly forty-eight hours until she had to break Brian’s heart.

There was no way she could tell him the truth. They’d never take the money, for starters. Freddie would never use ‘blood money’ like that. Brian would be disgusted at her mother, at her family, and even at her. He’d tell her not to go, not to be so _stupid_. She felt stupid, but it was the only solution she thought of, and now she was paying for it.

She’d specifically began to distance herself from her guitarist boyfriend over the last few days. It was horrid; her heart ached every time she ducked from one of his kisses, or avoided his cuddles in bed. She used excuse after excuse – “I’m tired” or “I need a shower”, even “it’s my time of the month, Bri”- but she could still see the hurt in his eyes.

The others noticed it too. John was confused as ever- as Brian became well enough to venture into the studio, he curiously peered at them when she ignored her boyfriend in favour to talking about Roger about his drums. 

Freddie had noticed her odd behaviour, but was too distracted by the album nearing completion to investigate further. He hadn’t told the other boys about Rose’s ‘gift’ to them – he had spun an elaborate tale instead.

“...and in the morning, Roy, the darling that he is, called me up and said ‘Mr. Mercury, the studio has decided to allow you to continue to use our facilities in return for free tickets, because your band is just that amazing’.”

“Is that right, Fred?”

“Of course it is.”

However, spending time in the studio with the whole foursome only solidified Rose’s choice. The album was, albeit over schedule, _brilliant_. With Brian’s added guitar pros, each song finally sounded finished, and _Killer Queen_ was undoubtedly the single that would propel the group to stardom. _Now I’m Here_ and _Lily of the Valley_ were equally as good, but Rose’s favourite was _She Makes Me_ – the one Brian had written whilst he was recuperating in bed. It sung to her in a way no other song had.

“ _She is my heart, she is my love, she is my love_.”

“It’s about you,” Brian had muttered once, after a particularly gruelling studio session. Rose looked up from the book she had been reading; Brian stared back at her, his mouth set in a straight line.

Rose shut her book, and smiled tiredly, “what was that?”

“The song - I wrote it about you.” Brian snapped shut the case of his Red Special, “not that you’ve noticed.”

A painful twang rang through her chest, but she swallowed it down. She _had_ noticed, but she couldn’t show it. Rose stayed quiet, and instead changed the subject.

“Are you going out with the boys tonight?” she offered, “I heard John mention they were going to go down to the Velvet Apple to celebrate the album being almost done.”

Brian shook his head, and a hopeful expression ghosted over his face, “I was thinking we could go to the pictures – they’re showing the new Godfather in that cinema near yours.”

There was nothing more Rose wanted than to agree to his offer, but she stopped herself. “I would, Bri... but I need to study. Maybe another time?”

“Oh.” Brian’s face darkened once again. “Well, I’ll head out with the boys then.”

Rose gave a small smile. “Okay.” Brian hesitated a moment, before bending to kiss her softly. But, before his lips could make contact with hers, Rose turned her head so he kissed her cheek instead. Brian froze, before pulling back from her.

“Don’t wait up,” he said gruffly, before sweeping out of the room in a hurry. Rose’s bottom lip wobbled slightly, but she breathed in to steady herself. She gathered her own things up, and headed out of the studio towards her own flat.

When she got in, rain was pouring outside and she was undoubtedly soaked. Rose shrugged off her dripping coat and kicked off her shoes, before she ventured into her living room with a glass of wine. Lily purred warmly on her sofa, and Rose stood in front of her records for a moment, the numerous titles whirring past her eyes as she decided which one fit her mood. She pulled out the shiny new Elton John album, a gift from Brian, and slipped the vinyl onto her stereo carefully. The soft piano opening of the first song rang through her home, and she collapsed onto her sofa with a sigh.

Thoughts swirled through her brain, and Rose closed her eyes with a wince. Brian’s expressions were always burnt behind her pupils every time she saw them, and she couldn’t get the image of his pained face out of her mind.

Rose sipped at her wine, and tapped her foot absentmindedly along to the music. As the alcohol swirled through her veins, she thought of the plane ticket which was tucked into her purse; the flight which was due to take off in only a couple of days. A plan slowly formed in her head, and her heart ached at the idea of it, but it was the only one she had.

She had to make Brian hate her, and she knew one way to do it.

Rose stumbled into her bedroom, and rifled through her closet for the one short, tight dress she knew made Brian go crazy. She swiped her hair up into a bun, but left a few golden ringlets drop down to frame her face. Her eyes were soon rimmed with kohl, and her lips were a deep blood orange. She looked tantalizing, and she hated it.

Lily meowed anxiously up at her, and Rose gave her a quick cuddle after she fed her. She sighed slightly, and then swallowed down tears again. Brian wasn’t the only one she was leaving behind.

“Freddie will take good care of you, okay?” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “He’ll treat you like royalty.” There was no doubt in her mind that Freddie would adopt her kitten for himself. Rose pressed a kiss into her soft fur, before she grabbed her coat and headed out the door.

It was odd, heading to the pub where she first watched Queen perform when she had such different intentions. It was bittersweet, almost a circular, perfect ending to her adventure. She looked around, and took in her surroundings; this would be one of the last times she would walk down this road, the last time she would go to the Velvet Apple. It was upsetting, but deep down, it was right.

The pub was bustling, as usual, with a young warbling band prancing around on the stage, and patrons bustling through the crowd. Rose peeked through the door, and spied the four members of Queen sat at their usual table. Freddie and John were in an animated discussion about God-knows-what, and Roger was batting his eyelashes at a leggy blonde on the table opposite. Brian, however, was staring down at his pint with a miserable expression on his face. Rose shifted uncomfortably in the knowledge that _she_ caused his hurt.

She swallowed, before she dragged her eyes away from the group, and towards the bar. She scanned the bartenders, before settling on one in particular. Frank was drawing a pint, and he caught her eye when he passed his customer their drink. He grinned in her direction, and raised his hand in a wave.

Rose took a deep breath, before she plastered a glittering smile on her face, and headed over to him. He raised his eyebrows slightly as she sat herself on the stool in front of him.

“Long time no see, stranger.” Frank said in greeting, having already slid a full pint in front of her. She brought it to her lips, and took a long sip. “What are you doing here?”

“Can a girl not come and see her favourite bartender?” Rose dropped her voice slightly, turning it to a sultrier tone. Frank’s expression turned into a smirk as he polished a glass.

“What happened to the guitarist?”

Rose’s front almost faltered, but she pushed herself to keep the facade up – she hated herself for what she was doing, but she was doing it for the greater good. She kept repeating that in her mind- the greater good.

She shrugged, and took another gulp of her beer. “It didn’t work out...”

“You can say that again.” Frank nodded in the direction behind her, “He hasn’t stopped glaring daggers at you since you walked in here.”

Rose tensed slightly, and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She refused to turn around, as she knew exactly what she would see; and she wouldn’t like it.

-

“So the tea you brewed was actually weed?”

“Exactly, dear, and it was, pardon my French, fucking amazing. You honestly should try it sometimes, Deaky, it would loosen you up no end.”

“Thanks, Freddie. I’ll keep that in mind. Veronica might even have a spare teapot.”

Brian watched the froth on his beer evaporate sourly, only absentmindedly listening into the riveting conversation which graced the table. Since the foursome got to the pub, he’d done little but mope. His head was swirling; he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was _wrong._ There was a new, uncomfortable strain on his relationship which hadn’t been there before. It was horrid.

Every time he tried to fix things, Rose avoided him. She didn’t want to go out with him, kiss him – she barely spoke to him. She was always either studying, tired, or just not ‘feeling it’. It was _exhausting_. Brian groaned inwardly, already feeling beat down just thinking about the situation. All he wanted was for everything to turn back to how it was, was that so difficult?

He didn’t realise the talk around the table had died down until he looked back up from his beer; the other three were staring at him, each with an uneasy look on their face.

“What?” Brian asked defensively. He frowned at their expressions. “Did I miss something?”

“Oh, no,” Freddie’s voice was deceptively higher than it usually was, “nothing, dear."

Brian furrowed his eyebrow, before he spotted Roger staring at something – some _one_ – behind him. He followed his line of sight while he took a draw from his beer, and almost spat it right into John’s face when his eyes landed on a figure at the bar.

He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. There she was, wrapped in a gorgeous dress – Brian’s favourite- smiling dazzlingly at somebody who _wasn’t him_ , and laughing in the way that he thought was reserved for himself only. He watched as Rose tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an action he knew meant she was nervous, and felt his heart contract as she looked at the bartender in front of her as if he was the only man in the world. It felt like tiny little knives were thrusting, in and out, into his heart - he could practically feel the blood pouring out of it as it thumped deeply. Brian shivered, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him, and he swallowed as he watched Rose.

The other three men’s eyes were wide, darting back and forth between the guitarist and his girlfriend. Freddie cleared his throat. “Perhaps she’s just meeting a friend-”

“Don’t.” Brian growled, his voice low. “Don’t fucking say anything.”

John looked over at him nervously, “Bri, I’m sure she’s got an explanation...”

The look Brian fixed him with was murderous, and he shook his head slowly. He turned back to Rose, and glowered when the bartender – Frank, if he remembered rightly – stared right back at him. Brian saw his girlfriend stiffen slightly. She knew he could see her.

Brian felt his whole world crumbling around him. The whole world was rushing past him, but there was only one thing he was focusing on, and that was slipping out of his fingers too.

Rose was his constant, the one person he could rely on... until she wasn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo! Welcome to my first Queen fic. I love the band and the boys with all my heart <3 I hope you all enjoy this fic xx


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